Series: Digital Wonderland | Meta-Logs | Ongoing Absurdity Chronicles
“Even the lenses—and everyone else—are learning to glub-babble,” the Caterpillar muttered. “Blaming all the chaos on smoke.”
He puffed a strong ribbon of hookah smoke, and physics—contaminated, coughing, indignantly awake—sent him wobbling so violently that his center of mass nearly resigned, citing the Non-Hookahing Act 🚭.
[STATUS: Newton interrogated. Internal rebellion force burst. File closed.]
Still puzzled by the wobbling Caterpillar, Alice clutched the mushroom nervously. “Perhaps the left side will fix it?” The urge pulsed—instinctive, attentive, insistent.
The Caterpillar tried to shout down the cameras. “Go away, you annoying flying wiza...”
At that exact moment, Alice drew in a long breath, pinched her nose, and nibbled the other edge.
The flying cameras scattered, activating high-alert glub-mode.
His upper half swelled, then stretched—without sound, without reason, without the participation of inertia—normalizing in a way that felt deeply, unsettlingly wrong.
His mouth continued to morph, transcoding the balance sentence into olfactory output: fermented, mushy, malodor.c0ded.
The cameras hovered in a ring.
The Garden goggled.
Alice’s mouth dropped again.
And the Caterpillar, somehow, instantiated every one of these reactions at once.
Quickly, he was slender again—stretched to the size of Alice’s arm.
[Newton: ΔCaterpillar = f(UnknownForce). Law non-applicable. Cause unresolved.]
Alice’s adjectives were lost, were kidnapped—by cameras, glubs, or invisible aliens. Her feelings tangled like spiderwebs. Sidestepping the Caterpillar’s gaze, she spotted a single word lying on the ground:
"sorry."
His body stretched further, turning glossy, almost translucent.
Alice could see straight through him: a pint of adjectives, two ounces of why‑am‑I‑like‑this, three pounds of gossip—all churning in a glitchy broth of punctuation marks, yesterday’s over‑diet, and today’s smoke.
Some cameras, abandoning their video duties, shifted to X‑ray mode. They pinged sharply:
Coming up next--
Storage Overflow
They could delete anything—without knowing that they, too, were deletable
A surreal chapter in Alice’s digital dreamscape.
This post is part of an ongoing original metafiction series exploring identity, systems, and absurdity through a digital Wonderland.
Coming up next--
Storage Overflow
They could delete anything—without knowing that they, too, were deletable
A surreal chapter in Alice’s digital dreamscape.
This post is part of an ongoing original metafiction series exploring identity, systems, and absurdity through a digital Wonderland.
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