Bunny sat curled in the corner of the oversized velvet armchair, a sea of knitting yarn pooling around her ankles. She wasn't knitting anything in particular, just a rhythmic clicking of needles to match the ticking of the grandfather clock. The name "Bunny" had always suited her, she thought. It wasn't just the nickname she had earned for the slight twitch of her nose when she was deep in thought, or the way she tended to hop from one fascination to another. It was the feeling of softness she tried to maintain in a hard world.
Bunny sat curled in the corner of the oversized velvet armchair, a sea of knitting yarn pooling around her ankles. She wasn't knitting anything in particular, just a rhythmic clicking of needles to match the ticking of the grandfather clock. The name "Bunny" had always suited her, she thought. It wasn't just the nickname she had earned for the slight twitch of her nose when she was deep in thought, or the way she tended to hop from one fascination to another. It was the feeling of softness she tried to maintain in a hard world.
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