Alice sits among the poppies, fresh dew dangling in front of her face. The grass tickles her toes and she giggles as the mice scurry through the fields, and the wind blows ladybugs out of the sweet nectar flowers. The lacy frills of her ivory dress twirl in the breeze, and goosebumps touch her pale legs. The sun feels like rain dripping across her face, only becoming cool when the shadows of the leaves above her shift. The clouds start to cover the sun and dawn comes.
Alice could spend hours out here, never leaving, never thinking about anything else. She watches the animals come out in the fading light to start hunting. She is whimiscal and strange, yet fearful of what the future holds. This moment is her eternity, she never wants to leave. Alice hums an orchestrated tune–– Tchaikovsky and his Swan Lake, she thinks about dancing like she is a swan turned princess as well. She stands up, grass embedded in her knees and she spins around until her head becomes dizzy and she falls back down. The stars wrap around her like a warm blanket and she closes her eyes.
Her mother calls her from their small cottage house. The smell of banana bread wafts through the air and warmth fills her stomach. Barefooted, she skips home and lets the fireflies land on her head. When she gets home, her mother yells at her to keep on her shoes, and go fill up the bath. She wonders why she must act proper, for she is at peace with the whisper of the outside. She fills up the bath quickly and sinks in. Her bones melt under the hot water and soap seeps through her wild hair. She daydreams again of running to the forest and never coming back. But the strong arms of her mother's hugs keeps her grounded to the Earth.
