“Look Gramma. A bunny rabbit!”
“Nice, Toddles. Are you ready to go to the next museum? Grampa wants to buy him some guys at that record store next door.”
“Guys?” Toddles turns her head briefly to stare at her mother’s mother.
“Gunn(s) I meant there.” Alice Farrowheart wondered about the mistake, though. She had studied Sigmund Fraud in college and didn’t think all of his theories were bunk. Like tongue slips.
Toddles swings carefree toward Sam Parr Collage 09 again, arms restless. “Why is his *brains* leaking into that rabbit?”
Alice walks toward the collage to study more of what the child was talking about. Indeed, the “brains” of the green figure in the collage seemed to be leaking into the “rabbit”, and from not one but two directions: from the west and also from the south. And what was this landscape? The Heartland? Looked like The Heartland.
The next morning, Alice Farrowheart read about the death of young Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer in the NWES Gazette and wondered about the synchronicity with the likewise rabbit spied by her granddaughter in the Red Umbrella Gallery. She’d also studied Carl Young in collage in the same course. Did she think: collage?
She went back to the Red Umbrella in the afternoon. And the afternoon after that. And then a final time on the 3rd of November, when she decided to phone the local police department about the matter. Synchronicity can perhaps solve crimes!
Sunklands 