Then I remember - my onus is to be true to the story. And this is how it wants to be told.
After all, I'm living in the Land of Wonder... where every curiosity may be allowed.
So please, enjoy this rather humorous excerpt from my book, coming very soon!!!
HEART: a fantasy of organs
Excerpt from Part III: Queen of Hearts and Knave
His glowing eyes appeared almost immediately above the Queen, though the rest of his body remained hidden.
“You come quickly for once.”
His grin appeared, as wide and pointy as ever.
“Something in your voice hints at… mischief.”
The Queen almost laughed.
“Is that all that is necessary to create a timely creature out of you?”
The Cheshire licked one of his suddenly visible paws delicately before answering.
“Oh, certainly not. Games and puzzles and desserts work quite nicely, too.”
“Then you will quite enjoy what I have in mind.”
“Oh, this smacks of conspiracy,” he giggled, clapping his paws together in delight, his black-furred body floating upright in front of her. “My absolute favorite.”
“I wouldn’t call it conspiracy. Yet.”
His large body floating up and began to spin in circles around the Queen’s head.
“Oh, Queenie, tell me quickly. The waiting is so tiresome!”
The Queen reached out a calming hand. The Cheshire responded by butting his head impatiently against her fingers. She smiled slightly, remembering what it felt like to be amused.
“Very well. I propose, dear cat, to have a party.”
He froze for a moment in shock before resume his customary air of aplomb.
“That might be worth forgiving your incorrect feline reference.”
“Ah. Then you will help.”
The Cheshire’s ears perked up and his grin grew to equal the size of his large body.
“Help? Why Queenie, you must let me plan the entire affair!”
“Though I do want a specific guest list, Cheshire.”
He whirled in the air, landing lightly on her unadorned head.
“But of course! Your every wish will be fulfilled.”
He jumped off of her head to land on the arm of the throne. A scroll with a feather-tipped pen appeared in his paws as he reclined on his hind legs. The Queen looked at him and wanted to laugh, but it would have been hollow, empty. And she wanted to honor the truth between them. So she said nothing, instead pushing away the ever-present hunger.
“Now then, when would you like to throw this Grand Ball?”
The Queen closed her eyes, lost in thought.
“As soon as possible. I feel… it must be soon.”
“I see. Party… in… a hurry.” He muttered to himself, writing a subtitle under Grand Ball. “Yes, right then, that’s all in order. Two days, you said? Very good. Now tell me, who will be your Guest of Honor? The Knave, yes, I can see that.”
He scribbled hastily, adding unnecessary flourishes to the page. His every move showcased his delight.
Which is well-deserved, the Queen thought, as I have never thrown a party before.
“Now then, other special guests? Myself, well, quite obviously. Your Royal Blacksmith? His son? Tell me.”
He finally paused for breath and looked back at the Queen, his tail lashing behind him in quivering expectation.
“The Hatter. And-“
“The Angry Hatter? But- but- he’ll yell and scream the entire time. In fact, weren’t you supposed to eat his heart? Hmm, this might be your best opportunity.”
She broke into his reflections, repeating the words slowly.
“The Hatter. As a Special Guest.”
Her voice remained firm and even, a sure sign she would not change her mind. The Cheshire recognized this instantly and went back to writing out his list.
“Ah, very well. I shall just have to be, shall we say, a bit more creative with seating, though I supposed you will want his companions.”
“The March Rabbit and the Doormouse? Oh, I suppose. But I wanted the Hatter for another reason.”
“And that is?”
The Queen looked out over the cold vista spread below her, the ground covered in icy, sooty sleet. When she spoke, it was in a low, frozen voice that echoed the landscape.
“The Hatter is cursed by Time, remember?”
“Ah,” the Cheshire replied just as softly, momentarily distracted from his List by the longing in the Queen’s voice. “Yes. He offended Time.”“And so it must always be Spring, wherever he goes.”
“And so it must,” the Cheshire echoed."