A touching metaphor for stillness, not one of calm and security, but rather a stillness born of despair of escape. 

Then a stillness falls on the soul, like the stillness of a rabbit when the stoat looks hotly upon it and it know that there is no more to be done.  

Source: Mary Webb, Precious Bane (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1981), p. 213

Photo credit: Pexels at pixabay


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