“It’s the freakin’ weekend. A blessing of rainbow unicorns dance around you. Your heart bursts with joy at the sight of a dairy cow and an otter gingerly embracing. Sweat drips down your face. You remove your head and wipe the sparkling droplets away with the back of your cerulean paw. A rabbit wearing paisley suspenders invites you to hop with him in a circle. You radiate happiness inside and out. You are not dead. You are not on acid. You are at a furry convention.”

This piece was a treat to write for Racked. Read the rest here.