If you were to write a story on here, what would it be called and what would it be about?

The Rabbit Man

An unkempt, sunburned guy with a canvas satchel stood on my side of the road with his thumb out. Instinct said he looked harmless enough and I was in the mood for practising unconditional love. I stopped.
‘I’m Gus - heading to Eungella,’ he said.
‘Mandy,’ I replied. ‘It’s on my way.’
He climbed in to the passenger seat of my van, shut the door, and I drove.
‘I have Aspergers and severe dyslexia and I’m homeless,’ he said.
‘How do you find shelter at night?’ I asked.
‘Anyway I can. This week, I had a room upstairs at the Courthouse Hotel in town. Centrelink paid. But this morning the landlord kicked me out.’
‘Any reason?’
Gus spoke in a flat voice. ’Yesterday, the maid came in to change the sheets. She found droppings and chewed bits of furniture and bedding all over the floor — and she told the publican. He knocked first thing this morning. When I opened the door, he just about shouted my ears off. Somewhere in the middle of the swear words, I worked out he wanted me to pay and get out immediately. I think that meant he was a bit angry.’
Gus unzipped his satchel. The head of a rabbit popped up. Such a dear little thing, tawny, like a wild one — so still and quiet — just the nose flickered. Was that from fear or confidence? I felt a longing to stroke it – but could not take my hands from the wheel — almost forgot to keep my mind on the road and just corrected my steering in the nick of time.
‘Her name is Cuddles. She’s my way of making friends,’ said Gus, ‘because everyone loves a pet.’
‘Is she desexed?’ I asked.
‘Probably not. I’ve had her since she was a bunny and I didn’t do it.’
I had a vision of bunnies and warrens spreading across the land and farmers enraged at cattle and horses breaking their legs in the holes.
I asked, ‘Do you keep it quarantined?’
‘Never out of my sight. I have a cage stored at a friend’s place but she doesn’t get enough exercise. She’s a bit fat.’
He pulled her out and placed her on his lap. She was shaped like a furry balloon.
I felt a mix of disgust, sadness and anger. Part of me wanted to comment on the animal’s probable ill health. Instead, I returned to the topic of his eviction and homelessness.
‘What will you do for a place to sleep tonight?’ I asked.
‘Rent a tent in the caravan park.’
‘I’m pretty sure they don’t have tents but I’ve got a spare one I could lend you.’
By the time I dropped him off at Eungella, we had an agreement that I’d pick him up at four. We’d collect the cage from his friend’s place, and I’d give him a lift to the South Murwillumbah Caravan Park. But nothing is ever that simple.
At the park’s office, Gus seemed clueless about negotiating for a site. It looked as though the owner was just about to refuse him. so I negotiated a patch of ground for him at the park Show, don’t tell
Gus found his ideal site a bit away from the caravans, under casuarinas on the flat above a creek. Then he asked if I’d help with the tent because he’d never done the boy scout thing. I’d brought an air bed and sleeping bag as well, since it had seemed from the lightness of his baggage that he had no bedding. I attached the car battery to a pump and the mattress and let it inflate while I erected the tent. I pinned the ground sheet, connected the flexi-rods, slipped them through the loops of the tent’s inner dome, lifted the outer fly over and pegged it in place.
Feeling good, I left him there with my phone number, his few belongings and the rabbit in its cage looking more like someone’s prospective dinner than a pet.
The next morning, Gus called.
‘Um. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve got a problem. Cuddles ate a hole in your mattress and through the wall of the tent.’
‘Did you manage to catch her?’
‘Oh, that part was easy. She can’t hop very far. But the park owner wants me to leave. Some friends have offered me a space to put up the tent in their back yard but I need a lift.’
“Of course,’ I said.’
I had an old lawn-mower style chook pen so I loaded it into the van, thinking that at least the rabbit would get more exercise and be less likely to be let loose in the tent.
The new place turned out to have beautiful rural views from the top of a hill at the back of an old farmhouse. The renters were suitably eccentric, having a tame python they called Boadocea. They showed me how she enjoyed hanging around on the Hillsoist, or having a cosy embrace with a human.
Gus swore he'd be fine with the sleeping bag on the ground. He was used to sleeping rough, he said. So, minus the mattress, Gus and Cuddles finally had a home, and I felt I’d done something of a good deed.
That night, a cyclone blew.
The next morning the phone rang and naturally it was Gus. The wind had snapped the flexi-rods in the middle of the night and the tent had collapsed around him.
I suggested I could get stronger replacements from the camp shop.
‘Um, well, I don’t think I should stay here. Boadocea has fallen in love with the rabbit. She keeps slithering over the top of the cage.’
‘What will you do?’
‘My friends here have some other friends. They have a downstairs granny-flat that they need to rent out— very close to your area. You might even know them — the Caseys?’
‘Yes! How about that for coincidence, hey? Kevin and Kirsty. Sweet people with two primary school-age kids and a pet goat. It might be a bit far out of town for you but at least you’d be comfortable now the rainy season’s arrived.”
So I gave him, the rabbit, and the belongings another lift to their new abode.
A few weeks passed and, apart from some regrets about a ruined mattress and the hassle of having to fix my tent, I felt happy that it had all ended well.
Then another call came from Gus. Cuddles had died – probably a heart attack, he said. He wondered if I knew of anyone who might have a spare bunny? It happened I did have a girlfriend who bred them for the pet shops and she did have a new litter, but I lied and said no.
Months later, there was Gus on the side of the road with his thumb out, and again I stopped.
‘How’s it going?’ I asked.
‘They kicked me out.’
I raised my eyebrows.
‘Kirsty and Kevin caught me in the middle of dealing dope on the phone. Said they didn’t want that energy around their kids. Can’t understand how some people blow their stacks over such tiny things.’
He opened his satchel. Two little heads popped up, both with blue eyes, white rabbits this time, one dyed lilac and the other dyed pink.
I dropped him off at the Murwillumbah Community Centre and wished him well. I did not offer to help with accomodation. Part of me felt cruel and heartless. The other part felt I could no longer cope.

copyright Manna Hart, Tyalgum, 20th May 2020
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uh. I have a few ideas, most don't really translate well to here. I don't think there's much call for long format anything here anymore.

I've just literally posted my story on here just a couple minutes ago!!

My story is written here through the years in my poetry.

Mostly it outlines The events in my life, big or small.

It shows my relationship with Yah, where I call out to Him in some writings and where he speaks to me in others.