Her sister had wanted Julia to come. She had called three times, first gently persuading, then pleading, and finally ordering Julia to get dressed and that she’d see her in twenty minutes. The car ride was too long because her sister had filled the warm rolling silence with inane chattering. Julia had tried to follow along, knowing her sister only cared about her and just wanted her to get fresh air every once in a while, but she soon lost interest. Julia looked out the window, eyes catching every splash of light on the passing cars. They felt like animals stealthily loping alongside her window. Once or twice an engine roared as it picked up speed, hungrily racing ahead. The sun made an appearance from behind the clouds for the first time that chilly morning.

After they’d arrived Julia’s sister eagerly picked up a map from a booth and they set off towards the primate house. While her sister looked through the ropy wires Julia watched a small black beetle crawl over a lost glove. The beetle fastidiously tiptoed into the glove, searching each crevice and corner. She could see it bumbling along the fourth finger, the leather twitched as it made its way. She was startled out of her reverie when a thick older man picked up the brown glove and stuck his hand in, smiling at her awkwardly as he forced his chubby fingers in with quick, jerky movements. With a sharp nod at Julia he walked away, tightening and loosening his leather fists.

After the gibbons Julia’s sister wanted to go see the giraffes. As they walked Julia noticed a sparrow sitting in the wire mesh of a fence to the wolves’ enclosure. It’s tiny feet clung to the wire, small body shivering. Slowing in her walk she tried to fix the contour of its outline in her mind. As her sister dragged her away by the arm Julia wondered why it didn’t choose a side.

They went around to many cages that day, but Julia wasn’t able to look into any of them. The animals’ faces were empty and devoid of anything familiar. She listened to  her sister ahhing and oohing, or mumbling her disappointment that none of the animals seemed to be very active that morning. Julia fixed her eyes on the rubbed, scratchy glass between herself and the bear, the hippo, the crocodile. Neither she nor the animals could hold a gaze for long.

Before they left Julia’s sister left her at a bench in the shade so she could go find a restroom. Julia rested, staring into a tiny clump of trees hiding the cement walls of another cage from view. She found her eyes had focused on a small animal without having realized it, a quiet shape in the crevice of a young elm. It was a rabbit, bunched up and tense to itself, huddling against the tree trunk. It faced away from her, seeming to be looking at a small patch of blue above the solid wall. She watched it’s eye gleam, it’s tight face wary and scared. They sat there, frozen for some time, neither moving as the weak spring light reflected in their eyes, the rest of their bodies in shadow.