As she stared into her computer screen, the mildly depressed brunette thought of deep and meaningful things she could write about. She hoped that everything she wrote could be of some importance to others, without any of it being remotely related to her own life. She wrote for freedom. She wrote for an escape. And yet, all she saw on the page was just a bunch of black meaningless words on a blank Word document.
Somewhere off in some dark wonderland an Alice was wandering…
The air was thick and heavy with anticipation for some great calling. Out of a deep gloom a creature of absurd size rose from a pit of darkness. Adorned with bog weeds, muds of varying shades and wearing a crown of bones, towering above the cypresses, it blundered slowly out of its swamp. The creature had a mess of long and tangled hair and horns upon its head. Its skin was a pale and mucky green hue, mottled with brown spots. But for some reason he didn't understand precisely why he was leaving. He felt a stirring in the muck. A calling. Irresistible and mysterious. His steps were slow, painful, and deliberate. It had indeed been a long time since he had used his legs. Centuries of sitting upon an old bog throne and ruling his dark kingdom had stiffened his joints. Not only his limbs, but his mind also was fatigued from this spontaneous journey.