The Lost Boy

When he reached Wonderland

Being the kind of Alice that I am, it's not unusual to feel alone and even have a sense of existential crisis. What? I'm mad and corrupted. Anyway, as I was wondering around the part of Wonderland where everybody keeps their anonymity, I suddenly heard a presence calling me. So, I kept walking and saw a boy sitting on a bench under the shade of what seems like a huge red mushroom. I distinctly remember what he wore. It was a pair sporty shoes, camouflage pants, gray long sleeved sweater messily folded into a 3/4 sleeve and a pair of glasses strategically placed on his well-shaped nose.

His face was dimly lit with the light source from the phone he was holding with his right hand and a stick of half-consumed cigarette on the other. I was a few meters away when I stopped for a second and smiled. He was too consumed with the little device on his hand while the familiar smell of smoke lingers through my nose and I felt my blood rush. It was the smell of my favorite cigarette brand. I'm not a smoker, I never was. But I love the smell of it. It reminds me of the wise caterpillar. As I was only a few inches away from the boy, my mind immediately recognized him as the one I was supposed to meet. I approached him with a friendly greeting and a light tap. He looked up, greeted me back, and smiled.

His smile was extraordinary and shows off a little bit of teeth which was as perfect as the Cheshire's. It was not the kind of smile I usually get from a stranger. I remembered asking Mr. Rabbit once on how long forever is. I distinctly remember him telling me that forever can be just a single second. That smile lasted for two seconds, but it felt like forever because it gives off a lot of emotional cues. It felt warm, welcoming, and friendly. The familiar form on his lips made his eyes squint.

His eyes were what made his smile extraordinary. I was able to see beyond the thick glasses that hinders a great view of his emotional reality. It expresses a bittersweet agony like my morning coffee.

He was finishing up his smoke and made me sit on the table that serves liquor instead of non-existent tea. I felt the judgmental stares of the people around us and anxiety suddenly consumed me. They remind me of the judgmental singing flowers I met one time who thinks I was but a simple weed. Me? A useless ugly weed? Well, perhaps I am. In the reality of being, I am. Enough of that, I'm currently existing in wonderland, talking to this lost boy in front of me, sharing personal things and adventures about ourselves.

As we were talking and drinking, time was quickly fading. But unlike Mr. Rabbit, I wasn't in a hurry. Every single second consumed by our conversation just seems so worth it and comforting. We were talking, smiling, and laughing despite all the pain we're both hiding.

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