Neelachips

 Three figures staggered out into the rainy night. The slithered into each other, briefly merged and then fell apart again, forming the bodies of two well-dressed gentleman, each carrying a black umbrella. They were dressed in smart spats and white starched shirts. One wore a purple turban, the other crushed a battered clipboard to his thin chest. Between them they had wedged a young woman, her skinny frame draped in a white shift dress. About her shoulders was a thick furred wrap of black and white and in her arms she carried a large bundle from which a tiny, curled paw could be seen. They crashed through the elegant bars of Sakura Town,

 Leftenstar had not gone straight downstairs. She had hung about outside her bedroom door, paced the corridor with nervous rapid steps. She finally retreated into the bathroom across the hall and stood in front of one of the mirrored sinks. The face that looked back at her was pale and agitated. She felt as though some secret had been exposed, some hidden part of her self had been brought into the harsh light of day. She gripped the edges of the white sink tightly, frantic that the cold porcelain would somehow help to ground her in the here and now. Something rumbled loud and fearsome in her ear, factory machines grinding and howling. She cro

Leftenstar left in the early hours of the morning. Dressed all in black, with the hood of her coat pulled up over her red hair, she carried the big black box in one hand and a thin backpack close to her spine. She had rolled her sleeves up so her rabbits had a chance to enjoy the cold air. She made firmly sure not to take any lingering looks at the Boarding House and instead broke into a jog and vanished into the unpleasant darkness. She had never been out on the streets at this time of the day. It was deathly quiet, a quiet that seemed to have an existence of its own, moved on rough-edged paws about the buildings and rose up on dirty wings.

The next morning the Boarding House was very quiet. Very few made it down to breakfast and even fewer made it into work. No that anyone really minded. The Birthday party had been a good excuse to relax, unwind and not think about home, or work, or reality. No-one even worried if they were too noisy and kept the Paper Dragon awake. Amongst the bleary eyes and tried frowns, smiles would light up at a memory, the memory of a dance partner, or a drinking game or the simple joy of not fretting. Leporidae was annoyed not only because he had a headache, but because Mrs Cottontail had set him up in a below average room and he had a horrid feeling

Leftenstar was dreaming. She walked down a dark corridor, lined with many wooden doors. Her shoes moved silently across the plush carpet on the floor. She stopped, trying to recall where she had seen this place before. Oh yes, it had been at Leporidae's place, when he had done something strange to her. When he had made her eat all the rabbits in that great starry place. Afterwards she had fallen asleep and dreamt about this corridor. Now she was here again. She knocked on some of the door, pressed her ears against them and tried to listen, to see if anything moved behind them. All she could hear was the machinery of life, rumbling and distant

While waiting for a cycle to stop in front of them, Leftenstar noticed Mr Banga rummaging about in his pockets and muttering to himself. Mrs Cottontail was busy licking her paws and wiping them over her cheeks and did not seem to mind Mr Banga twisting and turning beneath her. Finally Mr Banga seemed to locate what he was looking for and pulled out a small square of paper. He placed it against his forehead and whispered a single, hoarse word. There was a gust of hot air that caused Leftenstar to stagger slightly and there stood beside her was no longer Mr Banga with a long winding snake tail, but an elegant human-looking Mr Banga in a grey su

For a panicked moment Leftenstar did not think she would reach the train's doors before they slid shut again. She held the handle of her rucksack in her teeth, her hands occupied with her plants and the black box. She thumped several businessmen in the back of their heads, pleased with the results as they all darted out of her way.  She finally jumped out on to the platform and the doors closed noisily behind her. The rabbits were all a quiver and she went over to a nearby bench, trying her best to calm them down. She rubbed and massaged her arms until the rabbits settled and she was able to pull her rucksack back onto her back. She staggered

 Leftenstar found herself walking down a dark corridor. Its walls were lined with brown panelled doors and between each, a glass globe of gaslight gave out a sickly glimmer. She tired several of the doors but none would open, no matter how hard she rattled the doorknobs. She was not afraid, merely curious as where she was and how she had gotten there. The hallway ended abruptly before a final door where a figure sat huddled up. Leftenstar quickened her pace and gently rested a hand on the thing's shoulder. She had the eerie feeling that the Man-faced Dog's hand was there too, resting against the back of her. The figure stirred. The loose r