Bunny of the Night

Is that not the most ominous bunny painting you’ve ever seen in your life.*

This one’s cheating a little, because anyone who’s been to the [redacted] antiques store in [redacted] has probably already marveled over it. It’s HUGE. It takes up like half their back wall. We haven’t lived here long enough to know if this thing’s been there for years or if it’s a recent acquisition—although somewhat telling is the fact that it doesn’t have a price tag. (And it’s like the only thing in the store that doesn’t.)

Remember when I was complaining that nobody in Connecticut ever priced their sh**? (Ironic that they insist on calling them “tag sales” in CT, but no one actually puts price tags on anything.) (What monsters.) It’s like the opposite of that in Ohio; 90% of the yardsales I’ve been to so far have had everything neatly labeled, to the point where each individual book will have a price sticker on it. My theory is that they have no intention of actually selling the deranged bunny masterwork; they’re just using it to draw people in so they can sell them on old buttons and vases and things.

Either that, or the painting comes to life at night and they don’t want it to get in the wrong hands. (It’s probably that.)

* (Notice I said painting. This is pretty clearly the most ominous bunny photograph.)

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