I joked today that the fog contained a giant rabbit whose purpose in life is to eat bratty children and small yappy dogs.
“That would make an amusing story,” I told myself. (What? You claim you don’t talk to yourself? Liar.)
So I wrote it. The start of it, at least.
I know the rabbit’s name is Stew and that she has excellent reasons to dislike small children and Yorkies.
Should I ever polish the story up enough to share with the, er, masses (all 10-20 of you are quite lovely, I am sure), I will let you know.