If We'd All

imagine nation

The end.

But, what if it wasn't?

I closed my tattered copy of Alice In Wonderland silently and looked up at the slobber-happy pup at my bare feet, and grin as I slide my dirty fingers through his medium length, thick, black coat. Haiku's ears perk up at my touch, but his eyes are still focused on the young adult squirrel in the near distance.

I tenderly let my bitten fingernail run over the words on the cover of my beloved book, the etched-in name. Cay Evidona. My thumb nail makes bumping-scratching sounds as I near the end of my carved name.

They say I'm special because I wonder.

Because I notice the little details.

Because I take second glances.

But I don't find myself "special". I'm rather plain in appearance, being honest. Though I do get compliments on my eyes, not to brag.

"Haiku, do you think Alice was really dreaming Wonderland? Or do you suppose she was dreaming she was dreaming? In other words, not dreaming at all? Although it was in her head, of course," I think aloud.

"Good Lord, child, calm yourself. I suppose, if you took the story and shook it violently upside-down, there'd be a million thousand secrets that fall out," I fancied he answered.

I tested it, and when I received no results, looked back at the bearlike puppy, his erect ears pointing my direction.

"I said the story, Cay, not the book."

I'm in the thick part of the forest, as usual. My special place. A willow, the tall grass camouflaging me, the almost-but-not-quite-silence. My imagination transforming every tree into a towering mushroomtree, and flowers having a polite political argument. The bush near the river evolved into a long table at which the Hatter, March Hare, and Dormouse threw silverware at each other and cackled as they recited silly songs. Every colour seemed alive and bursting as they grew increasingly more and more vibrant with each moment. My imagination transforming every object until I found myself in Wonderland.