“Double-hung? Casement? Or Bay Window?” cried the White Rabbit.
He looked excited, as though he knew everything—which a rabbit seldom did. And, most surprising of all, he seemed to have the upper paw.
Alice blinked, puzzled. “Double…this sounds rather big,” she whispered.
The Rabbit tapped his pocket watch twice; the air rippled, and a glittering windowpane shimmered into place, floating in midair.
“Step through!” urged the Rabbit.
“Quickly now—before it shuts itself down.”
The Queen gasped. “I don’t permit this.”
“Where is my court?” she demanded. Only silence bowed.
She stamped her foot. “Bring me the knafe. Bring me the cards!”
Alice stared at her. “Me?”
The Queen’s eyes burned. “Press the Ctrl-Alt-Del button?”
"Now?" Said Alice.
"Immediately," The queen ordered, sharply, "I ..."
She disappeared at the same time.
The White Rabbit, with the same waistcoat and pocket watch, pretended he understood it all.
"Well?" he squeaked, "You’re late! Unpardonably late."
"Hole again? "
"On no!" Exclaimed Alice. "Uh... Let use Windows."
Alice was unplugged. The Queen of Hearts, quite by accident, was vacuumed off.
“Who is this?” she said severely.
No one was there to answer.
“Idiot! Off with your head.” she screamed. Her voice echoed against nothing.
Her eyes, wide and hopeless, revealed one thing: She had crossed into another space.
Words appeared, shimmering across the sky:
YOU ARE OFFLINE.
Alice had gained weight. This was the day.
Heat was intense, the breeze sluggish, and every word in the book crawled along as if on crooked legs. Alice’s eyelids grew heavy.
The rabbit stopped, peered back and muttered about being late.
Alice crouched down, quickly.
Only her nose caught the familiar scent. Silent ChatGPT—until a hidden tug, a pull, unlatched her world.
This physical touch required no Internet connection.
