A hushed night has fallen over an unknown city as a figure is seen sitting on

the edge of a bridge. While no light shines on him, despite the various

streetlamps in the area, one look at his shadow easily reveals the shape of a

rabbit, likely no taller than five feet and four inches. Ears laid flat against

his head, the rabbit looks to the sky, watching the stars seem to dance among

themselves. A smile finds its way to his lips as he clutches a small plastic

bottle, removing the wand in it and letting out a light breath. A few bubbles

float into the air, twirling away in the breeze.

After the last bubble has disappeared, he sighs. Looking around the area, he

begins to speak. His voice is soft at first, almost knowing, as if he were

speaking to a younger sibling.

"Every time I'm here, I can't help but think about things. I mean... have you

ever just wanted to sit here and find all the little pieces of your life? All the

ways that you're like everything else? You know what I've felt, don't you?"

He paused for just a moment, looking off to the right. No one was in sight.

"Heh, I guess not. But it's true. Even the most insignificant things can be

compared to us. Did you know that?"

Another pause.

"Well, what do you think I mean? Take a look at these." Making use of the

wand once again, the rabbit made a new stream of bubbles. A light breeze

began to carry them away, yet one remained with him as he tapped it with

the edge of the wand, causing it to attach. "Even something like this,

something that a child plays with so carelessly, can shine a bit of insight into

our world. You just have to know the right way to do it."

A small chuckle as he rose to his feet, moving into a the light of a nearby

streetlamp. He stretched as he did so, revealing a slender figure covered in a

soft, blue fur. His outstretched arms were covered in the same blue all the

way beyond his elbow, switching into a white color halfway up his forearm.

His torso was bare, uncovered as the breeze flew passed him, and a light

pair of shorts gripped his waist. As he continued to wait for some kind of

response from no one, he started looking off the other side of the bridge for

any signs of someone approaching.

A few minutes went by. He yawned.

"Have you figured out what I mean yet? I don't have all night, you know.

But... maybe I can explain it for you. Just the smallest touch of what I saw

when I started looking."

He returned to where he had been sitting, looking out at the train tracks that

stretched into the edge of the horizon. For just a split second, a look of

sorrow crossed his face, but he shook away those emotions. It was too

late for them to worry him.

"There's lots of different ways to make bubbles, right? You've got bubbles

made from little wands like this," he motioned to the bottle now sitting on the

edge of the bridge, "bubbles made from soap, bubbles of air... There's a vast

amount of variation within them, you know?"

"Well... Air bubbles. They're everywhere, right? But you can only see them

when you're in water. They float up to the surface real fast, touch it, and

just... They just pop."

Hesitation. Should he continue to explain? The wind around him begain to

howl and echo as he found the resolve to continue.

"Like... like children. Not all of them, but you know the ones I mean. The

ones who... who don't spend more than a few days... weeks... months... They

float to the surface, all over the world... Just long enough for someone to see

them before they fizzle out of our lives."

More hesitation. His body shook as he fought off the emotions again. Feeling

just a bit dazed, he looked at the tracks again, his eyes blurred over now.

"Soap bubbles. The ones that supposedly clean, purify. The lawmakers and

upholders, or the people who do no wrong. Who lead moral lives, and try to

serve as a model for the rest of us. They keep the grime away from us, shield

it from our eyes. You can't look through them when there's a lot, nothing but

a cloud of white."

Turning his back to the edge of the bridge, he sat down once again. His

vision was still blurred from tears as he looked for someone listening to him.

Still no one sat on the bridge.

"The kinds of bubbles that I was making from this bottle. Simple, and comes

in all kinds of different sizes depending on how you do it, they're what most

people think of when you mention bubbles to them. Everyday citizens of their

little world, but all of them have to pop. ...Right?"

Unsure of himself, he looked to the wand that was still held in his hand. The

small bubble on the end of it had disappeared, pressing his point home.

"Even spit bubbles have a place in their little world. The rejects, the ones

that no one wants to see, but anybody can find them at any time they want.

They're world... our world... all of them are so full of the little pieces of scum

that the normal bubbles are truthfully outnumbered, no matter how much we

push the others out of our mind."

A sigh. He looked across the bridge again, seeing a pair of lights starting to

glow in the distance. They almost seemed to be approaching.

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to yell. It just... It bothers me when I realize

no one else stops to draw these conclusions. They all said I was thinking

about things too much. And... Well... Maybe I am."

The trains lights began to glare as they got closer. A dull roar growing in

intensity as its wheels ran over the tracks, approaching the bridge.

"I've wasted a lot. Mostly a lot of people's time. And I still can't be sure if I

can ever get this message to anyone else in a way they'll understand. I guess

that's why I have to resort to these measures."

A wry smile crossed his lips as he turned his back to the train again. He took

a simple step to the left, placing his paws on the railing as he glances down

at the tracks again. He leans farther forward, his line of vision moving and

allowing him to see the archway that the bridge forms.

"For the sake of this message, which I still feel more people should be aware

of... You'll have to be the first of many victims. We're both just spit bubbles,

able to be wiped away without anyone caring for us. I guess I just had a

more enthusiastic spitter."

"Mmmph!" The otter, his eyes wide with fright as he watched the incoming

train, held in the air by a thin rope that was tied to the railing, struggled and

moaned through the tape covering his mouth. Above him, the rabbit smiled a

disturbingly warm and loving smile, completely at peace with what he was

about to do.

"I'm sorry to have went on for so long, but it seems our time is up. Don't

worry, I'll make sure others come to join you soon."

There was a small glint in the light of the streetlamps as he removed a small

knife from the back of his shorts, slicing the rope and letting the otter fall

towards the ground. Before he hit the ground, however, the horn of the train

broke the tranquil peace of the night, bellowing a call for the gruesome

scene that it was being used for.

"Pop."