Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Wabbit and the wabbits of Turin

After the Wabbit disembarked from the orange bus he found that Via Bardonecchia was a very long Via indeed. He hopped hither and thither from one side of the road to the other but the wabbits were nowhere to be seen. Suddenly he heard a voice calling to him. "They're right down there, Wabbit!" A woman from a pasticceria was pointing to a long fence. And there they were. The Wabbit knew he had reached the correct place, because in a field surrounded by a fence, there were mounds of earth and burrows and many, many wabbits. But they were all looking entirely the wrong way. "Wabbits of Turin!" The Wabbit shouted and yelled until his small lungs were sore."Oh, good grief," thought the Wabbit. "I can take no more. Special ears for me." So he focused and concentrated just on the tips of his ears. There was a whistling sort of a sound and a bit of a lurching and a crunching as the Wabbit rose, scattering dust on the road. He levitated until he was level with the fence. And then without further ado he started to glide back and forth. The wabbits slowly turned and gathered in a semi circle, looking at him critically. The Wabbit distinctly heard one of them say to another. "Just who does he think he is?" That was enough for the Wabbit. He put his paws behind his back, lifted himself upright and he told these wabbits exactly who he was, why he was there and why they should listen properly. Then one of them hopped very slowly towards him ...