Rabbits

Kain paced the dimly lit room with a sense of urgency. He was not comfortable. Sitting adjacent from him was Dimitri Prokhrov, a prominent East-Russian businessman. It was 2:22 PM, a mild 73 degrees, and there were no clouds in the sky. This was a day for relaxation, and yet Kain found himself embroiled in fierce business discussions concerning the rabbits. It always came back to the rabbits, no matter how you looked at it. They were the most valuable items on the face of this once beautiful Earth.
“Five mil-eon ees fair, no?”
“Just give me one more day to think about this. It is a very important decision.”
“Ov course, ov course. I see you in one day, ja?”
“Yes, yes. Goodbye Dimitri.”
“Goodbye Mr. Kain.”
“Goodbye.”
Kain was glad to be rid of his company. He needed to think about this situation. What should he do? Should he sell last two existing rabbits and his soul to a Russian businessman that he hardly knew and was sure to kill the harmless animals? Or should he save the rabbits and breed them, continuing their existence in the world? Kain did not know. He went out into his garden, and watched the snow-white rabbits eat carrots that were as orange as the center of the sun. The rabbits played together with enthusiasm and without a care in the world. Kain walked back into his air-conditioned house, and saw his wife Elaine neuro-conferencing with her friends. He shut off the power cord that connected to the neuro-conferencer.
“HEY” barked Elaine, “I was conferencing with my friends. What are you doing?”
Kain approached her, and sat down. He said in a melancholy voice, “What do you think we should do with the rabbits?”
Elaine laughed and said, “Is that a joke? Of course we should sell them. Think of all of the new things we could buy with the money from the rabbits.”
Kain looked at his wife. She smiled at him, with her teeth as white as a newborn lamb—or so he’d read—and she turned the power on and resumed her neuro-conference. He sighed and flopped on his cream-colored bed with more questions than answers.

The next day Kain was awoken by the falsetto voice of a electric rooster. He pulled himself out of bed, and went to check on the rabbits. They were asleep. The rabbits did not have any of the concerns that Kain harbored; they only cared about when they would have their next carrot. Elaine lumbered into the room. She whispered, “Mr. Prokhrov is here to see you.” He nodded and fixed his wild and overgrown hair.
“Mr. Kain,” Prokhrov said. “Ave you made your dec-i-son?”
Kain was silent and looked out at the mountain of gravel—the landscape that was outside of his house. How did it come to this? Two animals left? This was a farce.
“Yes, I have made my decision,” he said, his tongue numb, his mind blank. He was sure he had made the right choice, yet he was sweating profusely. “I have decided to sell those two to you.” Kain smiled then. He was relieved. Who needed those stupid rabbits anyway? What did they do besides eat and poop.
Prokhrov then pulled a check out of his pocket, gave it to Kain, silently walked to the rabbits cage, took them out, and decapitated them with a machete that was hanging from his belt. He stuffed their bloodied bodies in his satchel.
“Thank you Mr. Kain,” Prokhrov said.
Kain nodded and showed Prokhrov the door. He sat on his couch and dreamt of rabbits running freely in fields, and money falling all over them. When he woke up the TV was blaring with the story of how rabbit scarves were so “last week.” Kain smiled, and called Elaine into the room to ask her what she wanted to buy. His conscience was clear.