Alice Baron stood with her broom handle in hand amidst the shards of the broken looking glass. She had exploded in a fit of rage, having plunged the wooden utensil through to the other side of the reflective piece.
Bored to tears, she was! The young woman was dying for a change of scene. She had had enough of the housework and subservient nature of her existence. Alice Baron craved some excitement. The humdrum seemed to have beaten her to within an inch of madness. And the saddest thing about it was that young Alice had the world in her hands.
She was mesmerized by its smile, which hung there in midair (or so it seemed). And when her cat disappeared down a rabbit hole Alice had her work cut out for her. Her dog gone cat was no where to be found.
She didn’t know what she would do, but Alice needed a drink. She took short sips of her brew, not intent on getting drunk, but what she liked to call, “getting small”. Once she was well “lubricated” Baron slipped through the hare opening with ease.
She was surely high! Her hallucinations manifested themselves in strange visions. See caught glimpses of a pinochle deck run amok, swatting hedgehogs with the heads of flamingos. There was a rabbit with a wristwatch in a hurry somewhere.
Possibly a hat sale; its seemed to be mad about hats or it said something to that effect.
But the “bitch” with the hedge trimmers appeared to want Alice’s torso separated from the rest of her. They called him the “Queen of Hearts” as the way he minced after the girl in the blue pinafore, she didn’t wonder why!
“Head her off!” the “Queen” yelled, breaking a fake nail in the process. “Son of a bitch!” he/she said “don’t let her into that hole!”
Alice said, “Screw the cat!” as she scurried up the rabbit hole from whence she came, with the “queen” in hot pursuit. Alice presumed to finish her household chores. But she had other plans for the broomstick in her hands.