Ghosts In The Hat

Rabbits are accustomed to being pulled out of hats. Before the union they were pulled from digging, mating, writing letters, and other rabbit esq. activities. Now the law is passed only rabbits from the other plane appear from silk lined top hats on stages, in the white-gloved hands of anonymous stage magicians. They have little else to occupy themselves, and are hardly bothered by the irregular deviations into legerdemain.

They wait in droves, phantom noses twitching, ears folding. They leap and falls like feathers. They move easily between the darkness and calm shadows of endless night, and the kaleidoscope of colours and noise of crowds and magic contraptions.

When they vanish into the hat, into a world stitched with thread, lined with silk and applause, they sleep as though they have never been disturbed.

Text by Lucie MacAulay