Well I wrote this a while ago, and since nobody seems to be posting here anymore, I though I would dump it here and get it off my hard drive. I don't know where it should be fit in or whatever. It's the last chapter of my story and the only one that won't be changed by other people's events. It's also an epilogue, which is ironic.


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Epilogue

The rabbit sat back and watched the sun set over the nearby skyline. It seemed that the city was growing nearer every day, you could almost feel it growing, extending roads like tentacles towards the outlying fields. He wondered if perhaps that was how trees saw it, as the days and years whizzed by. He looked up at the tree he was under, ancient, half dead and rotten. It was of course incredibly dangerous to climb and he remembered the many times he and his brother had raced each other up it, only a few years ago. How things changed, so fast.


He remembered his grandfather saying that if he had bought the land when he was a lad, he'd be a multimillionaire by now. Apparently this had all been forest once, as far as the eye could see. Now all that remained was this small glade of trees, surrounded by parkland. Of course, there had been buildings here once, even before that, you could see the concrete. Before the trees had grown up over it, someone had poured a mass of the stuff in an irregular shape. Grandad said it was probably an old munitions dump, from the Carrotus-Shellian war. Back then you disposed of dangerous ordinance by digging a hole, tossing it in and covering it with cement.

That would of course explain the stories, that when the weapons had been dumped, unlucky enemy soldiers had been thrown in as well and buried alive. It was the kind of gruesome story that was passed from generation to generation by parents who wanted their kids to grow up with a healthy dose of sleeping disorders. He shivered in the cooling air and placed an ear to the ground. It was said if it was quiet, and you listened real hard, you could still hear the screaming, muffled by the tons and tons of concrete. Or maybe just the wind in the branches above.

The sun continued to set as a solitary figure ran along the path to home, slow enough to seem unconcerned, but fast enough to make it home before dark. The sky went from orange to red to black, the moon shining down on the tree, as it had since it was planted all those years ago and as it would for a long, long time to come.