the smuggler’s bible

Gigglering Glitterjig

Gigglering Glitterjig wanders out of his tree stump cottage after two o’clock with dark sunglasses on and a tiny cigarette sticking out of the corner of his mouth. He fumbles for his last match, which breaks in half when he strikes it.

The rabbit is at the corner shop. He nods and flops one long ear at Glitterjig.

“Whatever, you don’t look so hot yourself. I was out late.”

The rabbit twirls his whiskers and thumps a foot.

“Poker, huh? Play for cash or—”

A nose twitches.

“Uh huh, carrots. I figured.” Gigglering Glitterjig sighs. “Whatever. Yeah, I’ll be there.”