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The Rabbit

The Rabbit by Normandi Ellis It was the end of that season. What- ever last leaves the trees held, the con- stant rain had beaten down. Under the oaks and sycamores lay a quagmire of the wooded hills curled away, homogeneous and gray. Joel's shoes slipped in the mud. The coat he had borrowed did not keep him dry, but he was content to be there, hunting rabbit under a damp arc of trees. His cousin mounted the ridge ahead, rifle tipped up and away, his strides long and certain, his orange vest slick with rain and bright as autumn leaves. Everett had promised to teach Joel to hunt before he shipped overseas, but now his mind raced ahead and he walked mulch and marl, and one after another, him. Her eyes were sharp and dark. He lifted his empty hands and she bounced over the brush, her red tail flickering through the bare trees. At the top of the ridge he looked around. Further down, he spied Everett going past a spring that emptied into the his pants' seat, clutching the saplings to steady himself. At the bottom he turned and ran up the path. Everett stopped. They were http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

The Rabbit

Appalachian Review , Volume 18 (1) – Jan 8, 1990
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Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College
ISSN
1940-5081
Publisher site
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

by Normandi Ellis It was the end of that season. What- ever last leaves the trees held, the con- stant rain had beaten down. Under the oaks and sycamores lay a quagmire of the wooded hills curled away, homogeneous and gray. Joel's shoes slipped in the mud. The coat he had borrowed did not keep him dry, but he was content to be there, hunting rabbit under a damp arc of trees. His cousin mounted the ridge ahead, rifle tipped up and away, his strides long and certain, his orange vest slick with rain and bright as autumn leaves. Everett had promised to teach Joel to hunt before he shipped overseas, but now his mind raced ahead and he walked mulch and marl, and one after another, him. Her eyes were sharp and dark. He lifted his empty hands and she bounced over the brush, her red tail flickering through the bare trees. At the top of the ridge he looked around. Further down, he spied Everett going past a spring that emptied into the his pants' seat, clutching the saplings to steady himself. At the bottom he turned and ran up the path. Everett stopped. They were

Journal

Appalachian Review – University of North Carolina Press

Published: Jan 8, 1990

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