It was hard to distinguish at the time whether the rabbit in front of me was truly a man. To even discover that he existed, rather than being a hallucination or dream was a milestone in itself. Before I say more I find it necessary to describe the rabbit-gentleman as I perceived him.

The top hat between the rabbit’s alert grey ears was the color of blood. His face was as simple as a rabbit’s can be, if somewhat large, with two unmoving, lifeless eyes, grey fur surrounding. In contrast to the simplicity, his suit drew the eye with its sophisticated intricacies. Its color matched the bleeding hat and its elegance matched that of a Victorian gentleman. His humanoid legs peddled, and his arms gripped what was perhaps the most astonishing extension of his being: a unicycle. Black and glinting, the unicycle lifted the rabbit above the surrounding crowd.

As the man-rabbit peddled, a peculiar quivering light soared from a small box connected to the unicycle. It floated with the wind, susceptible to the slightest of shifts. As I attempted to touch the light out of wonder, it burst with the feeling of tiny drops splashing in a pop. Glinting in the light, I realized bubbles expanded away from the rabbit, seeking to be ruptured by adult and child alike.

The rabbit was made real by the open case that lay in front of him with the shine of coins within. His white, gloved hand waved at those who dared approach close enough to drop in a pound. When I saw the case, he became another of the performers throughout Cornmarket street. He began to repulse me at the thought of the case, he began to strike me as a con man, exploiting awe. As if every child would expect the pot at the end of the rainbow to be guarded by a tax collecting leprechaun that would then ask for their contribution.

Then reality again occurred to me, pressing in a new direction. The real man within the rabbit had to survive, and needed the money to do so. The fact that he chose to inspire the imagination as a means of surviving repaired my vision of him. He could certainly have had an uninspiring and higher paying job, and yet he did not waver. He did not give in. Perhaps, I thought, simple satisfaction was the pay he received, perhaps compensation came from his belief that he would inspire the passerby and give them something to believe in.

After dropping five pounds into the case, I continued on with an open mind, seeing colors that I hadn’t noticed since I was a child.