Birthday Letter
Darling Beast~
At last, beloved, the day of your un-un-birthday. I found your invitation under my pillow, written in butterfly venom on a cello-bow. It was so lovely, and I played the air in my tower room, conducting a dozen minute waltzes in your honour. I chose my best dress, my turquoise off the shoulder gown with the white veils and mermaid-scale train. I dusted my shoulders with the crushed pearl-powder you gave me last Michaelmas, and rouged my lips with sugar-roses. But I could not come to your ball. I crept down the Grand Stairway, crouching like a katydid behind the caramel bannister, and watched you galumphing with such majesty among the masquerading faces, your Christien, your Duchess, your Dormouse. Your throat gleamed so prettily green, your eyes so fiery crimson, you were so beautiful I could not interrupt, could not intrude on your radiance and happiness. I was ashamed to be my poor accordion self, expanding and contracting embarrassingly, to be this dull human among all those dazzling creatures! So I crept away quietly while you were singing "How Doth the Little Crocodile" in your debonair baritone with lampshades on your wings; I tiptoed ever so softly, ever so, into the night. I left your present under your bed-- a bottle of juniper-mintleaf wine with a lovely velvet hat and cumberbund that changes colour when you sneeze. It is very silly, but I was afraid to give you more. It is for those pretty ones in the great hall to give you what you wish. You are so much grander and more elegant than I, my love. I am a very silly girl, and a very small beast. In my turquoise dress I swam in our pond and kept very still so you would not hear. I shall come back soon, when the guests have gone, to tuck you in bed and kiss you goodnight. Happy Birthday,Alice
