Tales from the Rabbit Hole III: Literacy.
In the Rabbit Hole, indeed. I find myself sitting there, in the cold earth, looking only into the oblivion... Only, I am not afraid. The void has ceased to cause fear in me. I merely gaze and ponder why it has come to pass. Much is different and much is the same.
Rabbit has come and gone. He's late, after all. I wonder if I've been driven here or if I'm hiding here. The queen stole my heart, you see. In those sorts of situations you can never truly tell which is which.
Upisdedownways. Contrarilywise. All those sorts of things. The hooka has dried up. It's hard to tell smoke from fog. Harder still to tell which is worse sometimes. Until you cough. The only reminder.
Little bone children bounce on my knee, asking me to play. I tell them I can't and shoo them away. They fly into the wall and shatter. They're death is not my doing. They chose to hit the wall. This is what I tell myself, anyway.
Regardless. Doesn't matter. The sun keeps hiding and it makes you think funny. The tick-tock of the returning Rabbit draws near, and then there will be nowhere else to go.
Rabbit has come and gone. He's late, after all. I wonder if I've been driven here or if I'm hiding here. The queen stole my heart, you see. In those sorts of situations you can never truly tell which is which.
Upisdedownways. Contrarilywise. All those sorts of things. The hooka has dried up. It's hard to tell smoke from fog. Harder still to tell which is worse sometimes. Until you cough. The only reminder.
Little bone children bounce on my knee, asking me to play. I tell them I can't and shoo them away. They fly into the wall and shatter. They're death is not my doing. They chose to hit the wall. This is what I tell myself, anyway.
Regardless. Doesn't matter. The sun keeps hiding and it makes you think funny. The tick-tock of the returning Rabbit draws near, and then there will be nowhere else to go.