What happens if you combine a rabbit with an elephant?

Now and then I visit my parents home in Hisingen. To tell this story, I will begin by lighting the big yellow light against the pale-blue wallpapered wall. Then I'll put the two main characters on a balcony six floors above ground and a thousand stories below the sky. Below them are terraced houses, small semidetached houses and large green lawns. Insert a coffee cup in each of their hands. There's steam rising from the coffee. There. And turn the time forward to 09:30. I am one of the persons. My mother is the other one. There. Go.

I look down across the lawn, and feel that something is missing. I ask my mom where all the wild rabbits have gone. When I was a kid they were everywhere. In bushes, in staircases and on the playground. Now there isn't a single one.

Mom says that just around the time I left home the janitors had had enough. Perhaps it was the sorrow that I had moved that caused them to make such a drastic decision, or they had small children at home and slept badly which affected their mood. No matter the reason, this story, and the stories of thousands of rabbits, ended with white powder lines being placed in the bushes. It was the end of the empire of hares.

But then one day... My mom tells me this while pouring more coffee. The sun is still there and everything beneath it as well. But then one day, my mothers co-worker's white pet bunny Bosse ran away. He disapeared into thin air. The co-worker's kids were grief-stricken. They had loved the fat bunny who casually looked at them every time they came home from school. Suddenly bunnies began to pop up on the lawns again. The janitors had either been in a better mood, or realized that it was impossible to stop the invasion. It was ment to be. Bushes and playgrounds were filled with wild spotted hares. Bosse's heritage adorned forests and allotments.