Alice
Robin
20 Jul, 2016 12:39 PMI lay in fields of dying flowers, perhaps leaves, maybe even a sea of black feathers circling around me. The cold autumn winds violently push me further and further away from my governess who was frantically calling for me, her empty eyes beckoning for her smiles. Lonely yet silent, she keeps on and on, sentencing me to a melody of nightmares while holding her fairytale books in hand, books I used to despise as a child. But even then, I reach out to them, all the while, heeding the call of Wonderland.
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