Robin J. Harrison

He woke to a phone call. Blindly, he reached for his phone, slapping his glasses into the floor in the process.     "Hello..?" He answered, groggily.     "Hey, it's Catherine from the office. We found a bunny abandoned in another apartment. Would you like to take him in?"      He was wide awake now.       "Oh. Um, certainly. Let me get ready, and I'll come to the office to get him."     "Wonderful. Thank you so much. I didn't want to have to call animal control to come and get him."     Ten minutes later had Rena walking down to the office. He entered apprehensively, not used to just being able to walk in at the drop of a hat, but the receptionist welcomed him excitedly.     "Hey, thanks for coming. The bunny is over here." She led him to a cage that was far too small for the bunny inside, with far too little hay for the little guy, and the wrong type of water dispenser.     "Thank you for cal...

 The abandoned child I'd taken in earlier that day slept peacefully in my lap. The voice of the god who gave me immortality wiggles its way into my head.  "This will hurt." I take a deep breath. "I know." I know just how much it'll hurt to watch this kid grow up, fall in love, get his heart broken, make friends and lose them, become an adult, and old man, and eventually die. It's going to hurt to watch all of his achievements and failures. All of his best and worst days.  The early days are going to hurt a lot too, as I help him overcome his traumas, as I teach him there is love in the world and I hold some of that love and am willing to share it with him. Holding him after nightmares, sitting with him as he breaks down over triggers I don't fully understand, showing him all for patience and softness I can as he struggles to understand I'm not going to hurt him. "Why do you keep doing this? It always hurts you." "I want to help......

  The screeching of tires filled the air, shattering the calm that had previously enveloped the house. An ear-piercing scream was next, rattling the windows. Sticky wetness splattered against her skin and clothes.  This was probably the first time in her life she would ever be grateful she couldn’t see. It was the first time she wished she was deaf too, so she wouldn’t have to hear his nauseating scream-crying. A gasp escaped her lips as she woke. “Fuck…” she ran her fingers through her hair, sitting up, the silk blankets falling around her waist. Breathing out, she lowered her hand back to the bed. She swung her legs over the edge, slipping her feet into her slippers. She entered the kitchen and maneuvered to the coffee pot, but when she went to grab the pot, her hand only grabbed air. “Greg, you mother fucker!”  “Whu- Yeah?” Greg’s confused voice sounded from the couch. “Where is the coffee pot?” “Oh shit.” The rustling of jeans being put on while a grown man wa...

 Daisy Bell, the youngest calf of Marigold, wasn't scared of adventure. She loved doing new things, going to new places, and talking to new animals around the farm. All of which was really easy since she was only a week old. Today, something new was happening! The sky was leaking. It was cold and left water everywhere. "That's rain, Daisy Bell," Marigold told her when she asked. "Rain?" She flicked her ear as the water gathered there, making It feel heavy and tickling the inside a bit. "Yep! Water is falling from the clouds!" Daisy Bell couldn't contain her excitement and she ran off to play in the rain, jumping in puddles, running into walls to get more water to fall, and slipping in the mud, squealing with delight the entire time. She followed a family of ducks to the pond, careful not to go in herself. She ran through the large grass, getting all the water on her coat. She rolled around in the mud, having fun and getting dirty, and then she ...

 I've been backpacking across Ireland for the last two weeks during summer vacation at Uni and I'm finally in Blarney. I decided to go to a pub here to shake off the blues from all the rain that's been pouring down on me for the last week, and I find myself smiling and laughing slightly as the rainbow that stretches way above my head looks like it ends right at Muskerry Arms.  "Pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Maybe I'll find a leprechaun with a fortune here." I joke to myself as I walk in.  I grab a pint and go to check out the ambiance, walking around until I find a rowdy group of drunken Blarneymen playing a round of poker. "Evenin' gents, can I join?" My proper English accent sticks out like a sore thumb. I'm sure they'll think I'm easy picking. "Aye lassie, we'll deal ya in!" One man says. The rest of the table cheers as I sit down, swiping up my delt hand. They play a mean game. They didn't underestimate ...

  The dream of every musician is to be able to get so into your music that you jump into the crowd and let them carry you over their heads. Jennifer was one such musician, but the way the crowd was carrying her right now wasn’t what she had been dreaming about since girlhood. No. The terror-filled screams as the crowd trampled over each other to get to the exit, shouldering past each other, wanting to be the first one out, the one to live, wasn’t welcoming like the gleeful screams of an adoring crowd of fans. A fire had broken out backstage, and no one had noticed due to everyone thinking the smoke was just a part of the show. That, and the reason the fire had started in the first place was because the special effects director had passed out, hitting his head against a machine, the machine had broken and caught fire, and the rest of the crew hadn’t been able to notice until it was too late and emergency evacuation was the only option. Jennifer felt like she was fighting against the...

 Ken awakes as a groggy mess. He's had that exact same dream again. The one where the woman whom he doesn't know bleeds to death in his arms, and as she's choking on her own blood, she begs him to not blame himself. He's never understood why he has this dream so often, but it's a little concerning.  He considers bringing it up to his therapist as he stumbles from his room to the bathroom to get his day started. Once he's able to shake the cobwebs of his nightmare off his brain and get some caffeine in his system, he's on his way to work.  Halfway through his shift at the café he's pretty much forgotten his dream and he's gotten into a groove of busting tables, taking orders, and making drinks when a new face walks in. Only, it's not entirely new to him.  She's the woman from his dreams. It's nice to see her not covered in blood. She gives him the same look of bewilderment and slight freight he's sure he has to be giving to her. As she...

 The way the setting summer sun frames her pink hair makes the way she tosses her head back to laugh at my terrible pun seem that much more beautiful. A soft breeze blows over the pond and tousles her hair gently, bringing the scent of honeysuckles with it. "You know," She says, her voice still light with laughter, "I don't understand why you stay by yourself so much. You're so kind and funny." I want to tell her that I'm only like this to her. I want to tell her that I cherish her and I love her, and her patience in getting to know me and allowing me to open up on my own terms made me love her all the more. I want to tell her that I feel trapped and claustrophobic when I'm around too many people. I want to tell her that I stutter over the simplest of words when I have to go to a fast food chain and order a burger, and the anxiety gets so much worse when I'm around people I want to impress. I want to tell her I'm not confident enough speaking...