Muffins. That’s what I’m really good at. Forget the cupcake crap, give me a good muffin. When I retire from being the Alice, I think that is what I’ll do. Bake muffins. Being the Alice is a job I’ve had now for longer than I care to remember. So many White Rabbits have died by my hands and still so many innocents have been lost. The job isn’t done and another will have to take my place. And so the chain continues.
Nearly two centuries ago a young girl survived a harrowing experience in a world under the woodlands. A friend of the family, wrote her memoirs down as a warning to others. After pressure and possible persecution from the English Church the memoirs were written in the form of non-sensical fairytale. So Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland became a popular tale, but it’s true meaning was lost. The young girl decided that she would put an end to abductions. When she got too old, she passed her knowledge to another — one other. And so the tradition continues. Each new Alice adding to the knowledge of those that came before her. Over time the collection of memoirs and notes have become The Alice Chronicles.
My time to retire is way overdue. I had hoped to be the last, but even with the chronicles there is much of Wonderland we don’t know. For every rabbit hole I close another two are opened. Like the first Alice I was a fool to think that I can stop Wonderland. I must find another — one other.