A vaguely transcribed telephone conversation, taking place as we all speak and/or listen or neither or both, translated back and forth across several languages and dimensions
PETER: Hello? Hare? Where art thou, my Brother?
HARE: Hey, I’m kicking back with Maggie, we’re in a field watching a pastel-coloured sunrise of our own design, there’s an autumnal leaf in mid-air that doesn’t intend to fall, a spider is embroidering patterns on it.
PETER: Oh right…could you get back here? because you are kinda my imaginary friend
HARE: You bore me sometimes!
PETER: You bore me sometimes! Sometimes you’re just a pretty cool name for a blog
HARE: Your one-horse town, your one horse mind. You never update! what am i supposed to do?
PETER: I dunno, anticipation is underrated. I have a selection of magazines in the waiting room. You can catch a disease while your at it.
HARE: You think me a fool, just like the world is a fool. Say an honest thing.
PETER: I am not myself today.
PETER: You see it is all honest.
HARE: Hmph…In any case I don’t think the deconstruction should start yet.
PETER: Before we build anything, you mean?
HARE: Ach, conniving sod, you have me over a barrel, tipping a cow!
PETER: You’ll come back, then?
HARE: Lordy, no. Not on your whiskers. Why don’t you come here?
PETER: Oh Hare, you are always the dominant one. You have a deal, of sorts.
HARE: I have to go, boy. Maggie is gouging out a large melon with Rita, it’s hot now we have the sun in our room, there’s cherry bakewells, baskets atop our heads, and we’re going to set the controls for the Heart of Something!
PETER: That *does* sound fun. I’ll be there in 5.