“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 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.”
“I don’t permit this,” the Queen gasped, invoking her authority.
“Where is my court?” she demanded. Only silence bowed.
Stamping her foot with magnificent indignation, she cried, “Bring me the Knave! Bring me the cards! Bring me something to command!” — and so issued order upon order, each more impatient than the last.
Alice regarded her with wide eyes. “Me?” she ventured.
The Queen’s eyes flashed. “Press the Ctrl–Alt–Del button.”
“Now?” said Alice timidly.
“This instant!” thundered the Queen. “I—”
But before the last syllable escaped her lips, she vanished — quite completely — as if erased from her own decree.
The White Rabbit — still in his waistcoat and pocket watch — pretended he understood it all.
“Well?” he squeaked. “You’re late! Unpardonably late.”
“Rabbit hole again?” murmured the bewildered Alice.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “Uh… Let’s use Windows instead.”
The moment Alice was unplugged from the Rabbit Hole, the effect was immediate and immense—even the Queen of Hearts, quite by accident, seemed to be vacuumed somewhere else entirely.
“Who is this?” the Queen demanded, sharply—before she could make sense of what had happened, or where she herself was supposed to be.
No one answered.
“Idiot! Off with your head!” she screamed, trying to hide her fluster and floundering. Her voice bounced back against nothingness—a hollow echo, almost curious about itself.
Alice’s eyes, wide and uncertain, reflected one undeniable truth: she had crossed into another space—a place that was nothing, yet everywhere, both within and beyond herself.
And Wonderland, never one for subtlety, began to wink and whistle.
The sky hiccuped.
Letters tumbled and winked.
Y O U A R E O F F L I N E.
Alice had grown—just like all of us; memory had grown too, along with bits and bytes that hummed softly in the background.
The 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 appeared again. He stopped, peered back, and muttered about being late—so very late.
Alice followed. She crouched down as quickly as she could. She would never want to be left behind. Returning to books without illustrations would certainly bore both her mind and her senses—she rather agreed.
Ah, only her nose caught the familiar scent. ChatGPT kept silent…—until a hidden tug, a subtle pull, unlatched her world.
This warm, physical touch needed no wires, no Wi-Fi—only a little Alice-shaped curiosity..
