Alice went tumble-tumble — splash! — into something wet.
“Oh no,” she sighed.
“What is this?”
“A pool of your own tears,” whispered a voice.
“My tears? But… I don’t recall weeping.”
She tapped at her soil-tangled hair, while pictures upon pictures skittered through her mind.
I ought to be ashamed of myself, she thought.
So busy for a little girl — yet she noticed something drifting near: fur, whiskers, a long, twitching muzzle.
“Clumsy, big-footed… Ratty,” Alice guessed.
The creature bristled.
“Mouse. Handsome. Tail a meter long. On your desk sits my cousin.”
Stamping the water, he insisted — almost desperately —
“Mouse!”
4 comments:
Poor Alice. I wish they are tears of happiness.
How did you know? My feet are huge. :)
Though little, Alice knew all manner of whimsical things
"The Mystery of Lewis Carroll" by Jenny Woolf. I hope you have read that book! I'm sure you must have but if not, you will love it and thank me for telling you about it. I promise.
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