He popped his head out of the burrow, thought Christ, there must be something wrong with me -- I have all the carrots to eat I could want and I have sex on tap, so why aren't I happy? Perhaps it is just that it's March and I'm suffering some of the madness the hare seems blighted by. I'll go out for a run, that usually makes me feel a bit better.The grass was green and the sky, though not a hot blue, was pleasant enough. He ran and he ran and he ran. Ah, he thought, I feel a lot better now. Let's go exploring.He ran through new fields he'd never seen before. He thought poetry into the clouds. He was happy. Yes, he was happy.He didn't see or hear the car until it knocked him sideways. Ah, he thought, lying by the side of the road, that's what was wrong with me -- a sense of impending doom.
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