We had been out near Clifton on Saturday and ordered a pizza from Little Villagio for pickup (fabulous pizza, by the way). Edwin’s ears pricked up from the backseat when he heard me mention Clifton. He insisted we drive the short mile and a half out of the way to see Bunny Man Bridge, officially known as Colchester Overpass.
According to local lore, the Bunny Man was an escaped mental patient in the 1950’s who survived on and donned the skins of rabbits as he hid behind the overpass, lying in wait for his victims, hatchet in hand.
Edwin said that though no murders in the area had been officially attributed to the Bunny Man, a number of people had gone missing and that it was most likely him.
Chris and I had a good old time making jokes about BM, wondering if he gave it a rest on Easter, whether he found his nickname emasculating, and so on, but I must admit a chill ran down my spine as we approached the lonely, wooded bridge in the dappled late afternoon light.
Was that pair of ears that just disappeared behind the tree or was it just a trick of the light?
My Corner of the Village 