Very Good Friends

Long ago there was a streetlight that peeked above the trees outside Little Bunny's window. Needless to say, the constant light and Little Bunny were very good friends.

Little Bunny often wondered about the little light, how it found her, how it was so beautiful, how it had become such a good friend.

But the beauty of the light, which she went to like a moth to flame, was inexplicable. Pure love, deep color, mixed with the taste of cookies baking. Her hand stretched toward it, long fingers of desire, between.

Once, Little Bunny thought she saw the flickering light laugh. But of course, lights don't laugh. And Bunny turned away, fortifying herself. "I love you," she said.

Of course, no one heard. No one but Little Bunny knew what being alone really meant. So she sang a little song. Bunny danced a little dance.

And the street light, while far away it seemed now, glowed it's warm glow and lent it's familiar light and spent the night, like marshmallows on a stick in the hand of a little girl, at the window of Little Bunny.