A tribute to Alice in Wonderland

Alice in Wonderland is one of my favorite stories. Here I borrow the character of the White Rabbit, and mentions of Alice, to see if I can write in the same tone.

Comments appreciated.


(unfinished fiction)

Florence had been staring at the bush for quite a while, wondering what made it interesting enough to account for her extended staring, when she realized the bush was staring back at her.

Well, thats rather rude, she thought, and picked up a stone to throw at the offending bush.

The white rabbit wearing a waistcoat and carrying a pocket watch came out as quite a surprise. That was the very last thing she had expected to see, even though she had been taught to expect to see just that.

Queer, she thought. Maybe Auntie Alice isn’t as deranged as they all say she is.

“Oh dear, I fear we’re late,” the white rabbit said, taking Florence’s hand and pulling her under the bush. “Hurry along now Alice, why must you always be so slow. We haven’t time to hesitate.”

Florence protested that she wasn’t Alice, but the white rabbit wouldn’t hear of it, and all too soon she found herself falling rather unpleasantly down and unusually long rabbit hole.

“Pardon me Mr. Rabbit, but could you bother to tell me why it is so dark in here? Auntie Alice never said the Rabbit hole was dark.”

“Must you talk so much,” the rabbid scolded. “We’re quite late enough as it is.”

“See, its just that I’m not found of the dark that much.”

“Rubbish stuff and horrible untruth. You can see perfectly well girl, just open your eyes.”

“Mr. Rabbit, I hate to be a bother, but I assure you my eyes are open and it is certainly dark in here.”

“It’s only as dark as you think it is. If you think it is bright, then it will be bright. Open you eyes, Alice.”

“I’m not Alice,” Florence huffed, then said, “Fine. I think its light in here.”

No sooner than she thought the thought, the rabbit hole brightened considerably.

“Well, now that’s odd.”

Florence took a moment to look about.

“Rather plain though, isn’t it? Just simple dirt walls. Auntie Alice said there were shelves here.”

Shelves appeared.

“Did I do that mr. Rabbit?”

“Yes, you did. Now hurry along now. We’re very, very late, and getting later and very later.”

“So anything I think, anything at all, will show up. If I thought about a carthorse in a nightgown it would show up beside me?”

“Why certainly,” said the carthorse which had been the white rabbit seconds before. “Now could you not think quite so much, Alice, as you’ve always thought too much. Think much less, except to think us to the bottom of this hole? We’ve somewhere to be!”

I've Been Nominated

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The voting for my category is at http://www.thebestofblogs.com/2007/03/30/best-bookliterary-blog-vote-here/#comments