“Late! You’re late!” Dr. Rawlings bellowed at the brass section. Those magnificently large ears missed nothing. “I went to school for many years to become this brilliant—play faster!” He rubbed a hand through his poof of white hair and called out, “Rehearsal letter M!” while flipping pages in his score.
Most music professors
Harlem, 1952.
Alice walks like she’s got secrets in her shoes and dust on her dreams. Blonde hair tied with a ribbon, blue dress smudged at the hem—storybook perfect, if you don’t look too close. America’s Black mecca doesn’t care for close looks anyway. It’s a neighborhood that keeps its eyes half-lidded
Alice Liddell stood, brushed the dirt off her white pinafore apron, and stretched. That’s enough gardening for today. Her back muscles complained, and Alice massaged the most painful ones with her right hand. Retirement was great. Being old enough to have retired, not so much.
Alice gazed longingly at the forest. What adventures she’d
Zeke crouched in the shadows of the forest, hesitant to cross the open space ahead. A half-deck of faceless, card-like automatons ran past, all wearing the emblem of the Queen of Hearts. He checked the locator Director Alice had given him, grimacing and giving it a couple of good whacks. Yes, the Cheshire Cat
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“Oh, dear! You simply don’t understand! If you let this girl roam free, the crime spree will never end. I fear for my life.”
Officer Luddick released a long sigh as he tried to maintain a neutral expression. He despised when anthropomorphic creatures came into the precinct. Last week, a wild-haired man-cub with his
“Alice, dear… you really are too much for the real world to handle.” The Red Queen’s smile flickered to life in the darkness, much like the Cheshire Cat’s. She emerged from behind a gnarled Tumtum tree with a scarlet lantern held aloft. The fairy inside chittered angrily as it thrashed at the bars, and
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“Have you found it yet?”
I wince as the prince’s voice shrieks in my ear and adjust the earbud’s volume. “We just arrived, Your Highness. I will keep you apprised of our status.”
“Stop killing Time, Alice,” Topper says from my left as he returns the tin of teleporting cookies to his pocket for
There’s an old adage that dogs are a man’s best friend. Leave it to humans to gloss over the fact that we cats are the literal guardians keeping their species alive.
“Dinah?” my girl Alice called to me as she lounged in the garden grass. As far as humans went, she wasn’t the worst.
“I wasn’t always a soldier, Leroy,” Alice growled as she piloted her hundred-foot-tall, gear-powered, British Mark VII Mecha, overlooking the coast of Praia do Guincho, Portugal.
“Oh?” the young French lieutenant remarked through the AM radio system as he sat in the adjacent American-made Ford T1919 Mecha.
“I grew up a proper Victorian girl
Alice was feeling quite irritated with the world when she opened the front door and discovered a folded square of paper addressed to her upon the step. The message it contained looked like gobbledygook until she remembered she’d seen this sort of thing before. Holding it up to the mirror in the hall, she
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The Queen of Hearts stepped over Alice’s corpse, her long, crimson cape trailing across the body. Any true Superior wore a cape, of course. The Queen had written that law herself—partly to prove that, despite Alice’s claims, the girl’s DNA held no potential for Superior gifting.
Beneath the Queen’s boots, the engines of Hearts
“Ahchoo!” Alice’s blonde hair bounced as her head jerked forward.
“Goodness, Alice.” Her sister, Lorina, raised her eyebrows. “God bless you, but remember to cover your mouth when you sneeze. Even when a lady has a cold, she never draws attention to herself.”
“Excuse me,” Alice said stuffily. Yawning, she settled back
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