–People who destroy are people who have not created.–
Rabbit Lane is a peaceful place. The water trickling through Watercress in the deep ditch, the exotic purple and yellow blossoms of the Bitter Nightshade vines, the gently waving and rustling fields of ripe oats, the deep green of the ripe alfalfa. The solitude. After a few minutes on Rabbit Lane, all of this works together to settle my turbulent mind. Usually.
On occasion, though, troubling memories from a piquant past press themselves upon the serenity of the present. Images of a mother and her three children sometimes appear, without apparent cause, from many years earlier. I have tried to forget these images, but cannot. I also cannot forget how a guilty man got away with murder. Continue reading