Coincidences Lately, Of Rabbits, Lights, And Blood
Anna Malina: The Morning After (2021)
RABBIT
Before entering through the front doors of my work, I am greeted by a coworker outside in the parking lot who is telling me that there is something that I just have to see for myself. I am guided towards the bronze iron gate out back where smack dab underneath lay the corpse of a rabbit. Rabbits, I would like to add, are a significantly spiritual animal to me. Those who know me may find this easy to imagine. Seeing one torn apart by skeleton and cottontail, from someone who I truly believe bears cursed energy in their soul no less, felt like a deeply disturbing omen to have come across. I hate them for showing me. ALSO! As I am writing this, I am reminded of the time when my rabbit broach went missing during a work Christmas party and it was this individual who had admitted to stealing it. It is now back in my possession, 1 year later.
LIGHTS
It is later that night and I am walking towards the convenience store two blocks north from my apartment. I must pass through the expanse of the grocery store parking lot on my way there. I remember thinking to myself, “Why do I live here? I feel so empty inside this town.” When suddenly, all of the lights of the parking lot switch off. Black! Right when the word ‘empty’ had entered into my mind, too. It was so jarring that it didn’t even register right away because it felt so much like a dream. The fact that my thoughts had aligned literally AND metaphorically at the timeliest of moments (duality) had made me think of when my sister had told me that your thoughts really are things. If that is true, then I must have been reverberating. I felt like I could feel my thoughts echoing into the darkness. It was transcendental beyond belief.
BLOOD
My nose started bleeding when I looked at the moon while it was full, as well. As this is a particularly rare occurrence for me, there is something about it that seemed unusually auspicious for it to happen the moment that I looked out of my window and into the sky, although I am not quite certain what it means. Earlier, I was mistaken via text for a woman named Sofia. Apparently, the person on the other end of the line had written my phone number down by mistake earlier that week. They were from San Francisco, and we had ended up texting for the entire day. I explained that it was the full moon tonight and heard back that I was a good friend and a kind person. “Rearrange the numbers, and you’ll find her eventually,” was the last thing I said. I was left with the image of some stranger in California, tender buttons being touched longingly, searching for just the right keystrokes in order to reveal their lover on the other side. I am panging in my soul that the two have reunited since.