“Mei?”

           2 hours left.

           “Mei!”

           Would it happen again?

           “Mei!”

The black-haired girl jolted back to the table in front of her.

“Can you please pass the rice? It’s gonna get cold.”

           “Y-yeah.” Mei picked up the bowl from the far end of the table and passed it across to her sister. “Here. Sorry.”

           The small family continued to eat their dinner as they did every night. Her parents focused on devouring every morsel that they were denied as children, her sister picking the peas out of her rice, and Mei shaping the food away from the center, clearing her view of the silver rabbit in the center.

           Why did it choose me?

           She stared at the tiny creature. A symbol of luck and prosperity in her family. The dishes had been passed down for generations through her mother’s side. Mei remembered her mother telling her and her sister stories of rabbits from when she was a child. “You can always trust a rabbit,” she would say. She’d tell tales of small rabbits that lived in her backyard. She would watch them eat the grass and do her best not to disturb them. “But they won’t always trust you.”

           “Mei?” Her father put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw the empty table in front of her. “It’s your turn for dishes tonight.” A pile of dishes sat in the sink.

           1 hour left.

           “Can’t Jun do them tonight?”

           “You’re turn,” he said, pointing to a chore chart magnetized to the fridge. He exited the kitchen and patted her on the shoulder.

           She picked up the brush and began to scrub a bowl. At the bottom of it, the same rabbit that had been on her plate could be seen through the bubbles. She could clearly see the silver animal. It was seemingly resting, its ears smooth against its back and its deceptively long legs tucked underneath its body. It seemed to sleep among the pool of bubbles that grew with every swirl of the brush in Mei’s hand.

           “I think it’s clean.”

           Mei almost dropped the bowl in surprise. Her sister had come into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

           “I’m just here for dessert and a show,” she trailed off, grabbing a pudding cup from the fridge. “You’ve clearly got a system here.”

           Mei put her head down and picked up another plate.

           “What is it?”

           “What?”

           “Something has been on your mind since dinner. What is it?”

           You only noticed at dinner?

           Mei kept her head down and continued to wash the dish. Her sister sighed, rolling her eyes as she began to leave. “Jun?”

           “Yes?”

           “Do you remember that rabbit you caught when we were kids?”

           “How could I forget?” Jun laughed. She straightened her back and pursed her lips. “’I told you that they are friends! Would you like if a friend kept you as a pet?’” She slumped back down to her normal posture, “and it was so hard to catch, too.”

           Mei exhaled lightly, almost laughing with her sister. “She was pretty upset with you.”

           “Yup. Why do you ask?”

           “I just…I saw a rabbit in the yard the other night and it reminded me of that.”

           Mei continued to clean the dishes as Jun finished her pudding. The older of the two dropped her spoon into the sink and exited the kitchen, dropping the empty, disposable cup into the trash can.

           20 minutes.

           With the dishes done, Mei went to her room and sat at her desk. She grabbed a pencil and began to work on a new sketch, one of her newest friends. The moment the graphite pressed against the page she felt at peace. The fluid strokes spilled out of her mind, bringing it to life the way only she could. She thought her sketch might hop right onto her desk.

           Suddenly, her alarm began to play, letting Mei know that it was time. She closed her notebook and shoved it into crocheted bag. She slung it over her shoulder and headed to the kitchen. She grabbed a carrot from the fridge and a small rabbit plate from the set. Both went into her bag with care as she headed for the patio door.

           “I’m heading down to the shore for a walk,” Mei called to the house, “I’ll be back soon.”

           “Be careful down there at this hour. You know what they say about a full moon night.”

           Trust me, dad, I’m well aware.

           Mei walked outside and closed the door behind her. She hopped the railing and felt the sand between her toes. It sent slight chills up her body as she walked down the beach, but she welcomed every step. Her gaze was fixed across the waves as the moonlight danced across each tiny ebb and flow. Every star reflected itself on the black water.

The breeze lightly swept across her face and pushed her hair gently back, causing her to hold her head up, a position foreign to her. She saw the moon in all its light.

She kneeled down and removed the items from the bag. The plate, the carrot, and the sketchbook. She broke the carrot in half and placed both pieces on the plate. She turned back to the moon and saw a small nose poke out from behind it, wiggling in interest.

I’m here. It’s okay.

Suddenly, it became a face with whiskers that began to emerge from behind the large plate in the sky. Then, more and more of the creature slipped out and began jumping from star to star, sending bright ripples throughout the sky as if a rock were skipping across a pond. As it got closer, its size seemed to diminish. By the time it landed across from Mei, it was no larger than the average rabbit she had seen in her yard. It came closer and made its way to the carrot pieces on the plate.

The silver rabbit began to eat the carrot. After a moment, it nuzzled one half away and cocked its head at the design on the plate. It made a noise that sounded almost like laughter. Mei giggled seemingly with the creature. She grabbed her sketchbook and began to draw once again. This time, her muse was right there, perfectly posed for her.

You are a peculiar rabbit.

The animal slowly inched toward her. It peeked into her book to see what Mei was drawing before stepping into her lap and curling into a ball. She accepted the loving gesture, just as she knew her mother would have before her.

Thank you, my friend.