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Written by request for a friend whom was intending to do a stage play based on a darker and more evil aspect of Alice in Wonderland. Those plans have now fallen away, but this scrap of writ remains. Who knows?? Someday, mayhaps I will do something more with it.

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The woods, while never completely silent, had grown as quiet as they could remember ever having been in their long-dim memory. As a hush fell upon them, birds flitting about stopped their songs mid-flight; insect choirs ceased their symphonies; and all the unseen creatures of the brush lay still; all as if in silent expectation.

They were not to be let down.

From the old worn path came the sound of staggering, uneven footfalls, breaking the almost magickal silence. One could, if they payed close enough attention, almost sense the land about them tense, as if catching and holding its breath. Then, from a bend in the path, appeared the slightest of shadows; visible now only for having broken free of the shadowy copse of trees themselves. Bending and swaying as it moved, much like the trees it had appeared from, the unsteady form seemed ready to topple at any moment, though never quite. Emerging finally into the scant sunlight, the trees could almost be heard to give a collective sigh.

There, for all to behold, was truly an anachronistic sight. A one-time figure of innocent beauty, the young girl weaving up the path now looked more a creature of the very woods that had produced her. Long golden tresses, (which just earlier had danced like so many silky spider threads in the errant breese), now hung limp and lifeless, a tangled bird's nest of briars, brambles, and dead leaves. The statue-white skin of her face and arms had been covered in dirt and scratches, painting her body in an imitation of some abstract version of Hell. The material of her blue and white frock, the favorite of her closeted collection, hung in shreds and tatters all about her, much like the sails of a long-dead and ghostly pirate ship. But, before ANY of this, any who would care to take notice, would be drawn to her eyes. What many had once remarked to resemble the calm waters of deep blue ponds now looked to contain the fury of a maelstrom itself. So tumultuous were they that, if one weren't careful, they themselves might also be lost in the current of those mad whirlpools. Dirty, dishelved, unthinking and uncaring, she let her feet continue to propel her down the trodden path. Her mind, meanwhile, either unable or unwilling to accept the previous insanity she had just fled, resorted to more mundane thoughts.

"Oh, how I would fancy a cup of tea. Nothing too much. Just hot lemon tea. And two lumps, yes. We mustn't forget the lumps. And a spot of cream for good measure. YES!! That would do nicely. Nicely, I say!! Oh, and we cannot forget the biscuits. What is tea without biscuits?? But biscuits MUST HAVE jam. No self-respecting biscuit would ever be caught without, I should think. Strawberry. Yes, strawberry jam is always becoming. But just a smattering. No upright biscuit would ever be seen to dribble, haha!! And, of course, we must not leave out the finger sandwiches. Why, it is the sandwiches which make the table setting!! Not too many, no. Maybe five, no six, yes SIX KINDS will be just enough!! Why, even those horrid little cucumber sandwiches that Auntie always insists we have, we can even have those!! HAHA!! Yes, yes, that will do very well, very well indeed." On and on such thoughts raced through the poor girls swirling mind. And, while this might be seen to others as the ravings of a mind gone mad, it was these very thoughts, and these alone, that fought to keep her grip on any edge of ration. Alas, little was it known, to her OR her over-worked mind, that all too soon no number of thoughts would help. Tea with cream and lumps, sticky rolls with jam and sides of sandwiches, none would serve to keep her from what awaited just down the path.

.....

Some time later, still lost in thought of warm sweets and hot tea, a faint sound came to her ears, breaking her reverie. While odd and out of place, it also hinted at a familiarity she just could not shake. With every slowing step, a certain "something" at the back of her mind tugged more and more at her consciousness. Unable to put a finger on it, she continued on, almost entranced. And, as such, she hardly noticed when she stepped off of the hard-packed trail. That is, until she was already ankle-deep in what she could only hope was mud. Looking about her, the girl now saw that the path now forked around her, both to the left and to the right, (while SHE had meanwhile continued on straight). The lefthand path rose, fell, and disappeared over a small hillock bathed in ever-increasing sunlight, while the righthand branch meandered into shadow, and appeared to end abruptly in yet another briar patch some distance ahead. This WAS, of course, where the sound seemed to be coming from. Stepping from the mud, almost as if without thought, she found herself standing on the righthand path, staring at the distant briars. She made as if to step in the direction of the nagging noise, and as her foot fell to the earth, she stopped. All at once, whatever hidden "something" that had been anchored in the back of her mind broke free, came floating to the front of her thoughts. In a flash of thought, she found herself remembering some half-forgotten garden party of years past. So many people milling about the green lawns, all with one drink or another in their hands; the sound of an unseen band on some unseen pavillion playing and twisting on a warm summer wind; and, most of all, table after table, draped in white linen and stacked with dish after dish of every kind of food imaginable.

Just as suddenly, she found herself back, standing and staring at the twisting thicket of brambles and thorns ahead of her. What madness was this?? Had her poor neglected stomach finally overcome her mind, with yet more thoughts of food and drink, music and people?? And what of that?? Why should she think that, here of all places, that she heard such sounds as those of a festive gathering?? Though mad this place might be, she thought herself still far off from becoming as her surroundings. "Right then", she thought as she began the short trip down the path, "one way to be sure I am not out of my wits". Despite being hungry, dirty, and dry of mouth, her curiousity now had the better of her; and it served to almost PUSH her down to and through the thicket that lay ahead. Upon approaching the scratchy wall of weeds, she stopped short, listening closely. So close now as to almost SEE what lay ahead, she parted the vegetation in order to do just that. And there, before her, she beheld such a sight as to never be forgotten. A scene so very ludicrous indeed, that she would dream of it for many years to come....