First, I killed a snake. Then, I killed a bird. One bird of two. And, knowing what I know about the monogamous pair bonding of birds, I killed either mommy or daddy. I killed innumerable flying insects. A complete carnage of hemolymph (bug blood), wings, and exoskeletons is still splattered across my windshield. But, it was killing the bunny that really did a number on me. I didn’t feel any discernible bump. I looked in my rearview mirror, praying to see the little guy dashing to safety at the side of the road. Instead, I saw his body rolling with the velocity of my car traveling 85 miles per hour, and tufts of his fur flying in the air. I felt a lump rising in my throat. Horribly upset, I had to pull over and reconsider
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