A small bunny hops through a large field. The field is full of flowers and good green things to
munch on, and there are lots of other bunnies. She doesn't associate with the other bunnies though.
Somehow, her teeth aren't sharp enough, her fur not shiny enough, and her fidgety hopping and
frolicking makes them nervous. The field is balanced precariously on plate on top of a stick. As
long as no one makes too much of a fuss, it should stay steady. This bunny can't stay still though.
Despite many efforts and admonishments she just can't stay still. She feels suffocated by the
flowers and the beautiful bunnies with their sharp teeth and shiny fur. All of it is preserved
in a jar. Safe, where not even air can threaten it. 

On the edge of the field is a wide street with lots of traffic. There are many carcasses of other
bunnies who ventured out that way littering the sides of it. BUT, on the far side of it is another
field, just as beautiful as the one she stood in. The bunnies there seemed perfect from this
distance. They frolicked and wrestled and chewed on the flowers.  The bunny knew it couldn't be
as perfect as it looked. And she also knew that it was probably in another jar, sealed up tight.
She figured however that everything as far as the imagination could reach was sealed in a jar.
And that jar in another jar. 

She would sit on the edge of the field, chewing her own flowers, fidgeting. She looked out
worriedly into the traffic, fast moving heavy vehicles barrelling by without noticing her,
disturbing the air...ruffling her fur, blowing her whiskers... 

All she had to do was wait for someone to push her into the traffic...and someday it would happen.
Someday someone would bump her into the road and she would have to decide in an instant to jump
back, bolt for the other side, or wait to die.