Faced with what seems a new if not novel daily misappropriation of terminology I am obliged to avoid any direct contact with reality in any form relying rather on snippets of gossip and rumor to inform and advise my knowledge and interpretation of current events. This might seem somewhat the reverse of the generally accepted scientific approach, but what matters fact or truth when fiction and lies are consistently falling like intense meteorite showers upon our unprotected heads as we run panicking from one socially distanced safe space to the next. Chicken Little eat your heart out do!
Hatters latest presentation of cake was indeed sumptuous. Having the richness of a three-egg sponge, but with as light and airy a texture as might be imagined the Waterloo was an utter triumph. As a unique treat the filling was rude-barb, a rarely seen fruit of the clumpy red stalk variety, whose leaves are oft used by marsupials as sunshades in hot and overly bright weather. The flavor is pointedly sharp and inclined to make the taster cuss, hence the delicacies very appropriate and parece que name. Decadently drizzled with flurries of powdered sugar the Waterloo’s flavor was quite indescribable.
“Would you care for tea, Alice? You departed far too soon from mine own table to enjoy a second cup.”
The Hatter seemed to be acting far too sensibly for Alice’s liking, something was absolutely bound to give.
“Please dear Hatter, but no milk for me, thank you.”
“Perhaps a slice of pomegranate?”
“You mean lemon?”
Lemon? Now that would be quite absurd!”
The pomegranate slice floating atop the Earl Rouge actually looked quite appealing.
“Be careful you don’t get the pip.”
Alice continued to ignore Hatters witticisms as seemed the wisest course by half. The King very kindly scooted to the very end of the bench situated under the shading maple tree allowing Alice to join him but retain a decent social distance.
The Red King stretched his arms out wide and yawned rather obviously. Taking the hint Hatter slid an overstuffed pouffe beneath the Kings red patent leather be-buckled size tens.
“You do seem to travel with an awfully large collection of occasional furniture, Hatter.”
Hatter nodded quite absent mindedly his attention having been garnered by a pair of nearby hedgehogs seemingly performing a Pasadoble.
Hatter stamped rhythmically on the ground in a most authentic Andalusian fashion.
“How wonderfully reminiscent of fiesta, you Majesty.”
The Red King, who was rather rotund at his slightest, had found the cake and Earl Rouge tea far too exhausting and responded to Alice was an ever rising crescendo of ear-splitting snores. Having decided that matters were about to descend into unconscionable boredom Alice once more headed into the inviting depths of the Wonderland woods.
“Stop where you are! You are my prisoner!”