BLOOD CUTS GLASS
Moving into the remains of a church was one thing but replacing the saintly stained glass windows - which could be seen by everyone on the somewhat busy corner of Yew and 9th - with three equally colorful scenes from her childhood was another thing entirely. The image that brought the greatest amount of opprobrium from everyone in the community was a six by four foot stained glass of Janet weeping over her run over bunny rabbit. Disgusting, sick and tasteless were three of the most commonly bandied about words which over the weeks became entangled into clumps of ugly variations: sickeningly disgusting, tastelessly sickening, sickengustingly tasteless.
"Oh how I loved Bundles," Janet thought every time she heard a litany of harsh words outside her precious window. "Can't they understand that," she whispered to herself, sitting in her favorite chair knitting pajamas and other items of clothing for a rabbit that would never come back.
The neighborhood's ire found its physical expression in a brick that went right through the window one night at around eight o'clock and the remains of her beloved bunny were once again in pieces on the ground. She was too in shock to race after the culprit.
And so the second scene of tragedy was turned into a stained glass scene which, after it went up for all to see, sent shock-waves of shame through the streets.
And no one spoke ill of her ever again.