The Comfort of Crows

We have a white rabbit now. I don’t understand why my friend is not allowed to keep her pet, but the rabbit has come to live in a hutch in our backyard. He is huge, far too large to be pulled from a magician’s hat. He weighs even more than our dachshund, who is massively overweight. I had no idea that rabbits could grow so big. Maybe its unexpected heft is why the rabbit lives with us now.

One weekend, not long after the white rabbit comes to live in our backyard, we get home after dark from my grandparents’ house in Lower Alabama. When my father turns into the driveway, the headlight beams sweep across the front yard. I lean forward to see better. “It snowed while we were gone?” I ask.

In the front seat, my parents turn to look at each other. That’s not snow.