The Rabbit Factor

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I’m looking the rabbit in the eye when the lights suddenly go out.

With my left hand I squeeze the tube of industrial-strength glue, with my right I hold the screwdriver, and I listen.

In the half-dark, the rabbit seems to grow. Its head swells, its eyes bulge, the tips of its ears stretch upwards and seem to disappear into the dimness, its front teeth curve like an elephant’s tusks. In an instant, the three-metre figure looks twice as tall, twice as wide and considerably more threatening, as though it were guarding the darkness within it. Now it seems to be watching me as if I’m an enticing carrot.

Of course, none of this is the case. The huge, German rabbit is made of hard plastic and metallic reinforcements.

The hall is a large space, tall and empty. YouMeFun. It still smells of children’s horseplay and fast food; the saccharine sweetness of the bakery products seems to cling to your clothes.

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