Alice in Wonderland

The sun had begun its descent as a tiny figure made its way up the hill.

With chubby hands clutching a tottering pile of books and wild, curly hair swinging in the breeze, she marched to the tune set by the orchestra of cicadas.

By the time she reached the stone bench on the summit, her cheeks were as red as the darkening sky that rose above the coconut trees.

Setting her load down, she settled her self on the bench and began to read, ribboned shoes hanging a foot above the ground, oblivious to the world around her.


The daylight had died but she hadn’t even noticed. From the house behind her, a woman smiled as she watched a swarm of fireflies fluttering like a halo above her daughter’s head.


Here is Alice. And this is her Wonderland.

For Vallari, inspired by Coorg