so what are you going to do? the machine asks idly as he drops more of them into the box. eyes as wide as saucers, cheeks flushed pink, the rabbit looks up at the machine and shrugs, still clutching the heart with his tiny paws, hesitant. the machine shrugs in return. alright, so be it. not that you will have much to say once you’re out there. they put you in places where you get displayed, people either ignore you or notice you, then someone may bring you home, for themselves, for someone else, and you live your life with them, or outlive them, or they outlive you, or you stay forever. the rabbit gapes. no, really, the machine chuckles. timidly, the rabbit replies. i will go out there and bring this – he waves his tiny little heart – to someone. the machine smiles. goodbye. may it be that you give that to someone deserving.
the rabbit holds his tiny little heart close to his chest, guarding it tightly. not just a little heart, but one filled with little hopes. courageously, he hops on board a plane, eyes still as wide as saucers, his white fur at home with the snow.