“Watch this…” my brother flung a stone into the clear, pure air. “I love
watch them run.” It was instant death. The stone had hit its unwanted mark. The
rabbit flopped down into the crisp, nourishing grass. “I…” Bob slumped into a
stunned daze. Respectful of silence, we dug a shallow hole in the rich soil and
gently sifted earth upon the body. Spring had come, but the Easter bunny was dead.