all things great and small go creak.
Alice, mia dolce~
I slept late, love, later than you could have dreamed, and while I slept I dreamt.
I drempt, oddly, of being a tiny, tiny thing, like that time you asked me to sample the angel-cake, because you were ever the size of a gumdrop and I could stand to shed a few pounds. Next thing I knew, there I was, dangling by my corset-hooks from the edge of a tea cup with the dormoude looming at me over the rim, looking quite horribly distressed!
Thank's again for the boost into the mushroom quiche which saved me and my oft-vaunted might from true obliteration.
But I was speaking of some of the things in my dream. As I have said, I was itty-bitty, and this time no confection of shitake and broccoli existed to girth me up again. So I flitted about like an animated dragon-fly brooch until I found myself snagged out of the air by that mischevous imp, Lily, who brought me promptly to the Queen Her Mother. That dear lady, who, as you know, has niether the best eyes nor ears in the world, wore me pinned to her freesia-and-rose scented bosom for the rest of the bloody dream, from which vantage I watched the feckless Carpenter and the Ostentation Walrus model the gown that Christian made for /me/ dammit, at the White Queen's fashion show and salon. And /my/ shoes. And afterwards, they gobbled up all of the appetizers and snuck out of the back entrance, scandalizing everybody who had not yet been scandalized.
At which point, an unfortunate Ace made the mistake of spilling his elderberry wine all over the Queen's bodice, restoring me, at that most inconvienient interval, to my proper stature.
And then I woke up, my gumdrop, and you were gone. There was a hollow spot in my sleeping skins and a lingering ginger-snap scent.
So I creaked up blearily from my place, dreading that some bawdy creature-- Walrus, Carpenter, mome rath or borogove-- had dared to snatch you up from my coils in dread insult. Such a thing I could not permit, my pride being what it is, my pearl, my pebble.
But Christian brought me your note with my omlette and a marvellous pair of sparkly-rhinestone earrings that do the most mesmerising flicker-flash in the light.
So I am seated on the sundeck, quite caught up in the flash and the twirl...
Dear me, how inane do I sound, Alice mia bella? I think musingly on the moment next when you will arrive, all fondess and gumption, and quicken me with your profundities till I sink as deep as the road to Ohien.
Everso,
Jabby.
