“The Rebel Time is upon us!”

Alice declared in an irate voice. A moment of silence caused time to appear stagnant, and the first one to break the silence was a small plate-animal. Its fork-paws scraped across the floor, and its torso-plate was cracked. Alice’s reflection in the circle was split in half.
Confronted with this image of agony, Alice felt her eyes water. Fearing to fill another room to the ceiling with her tears, she turned and fled the room.

She sought comfort in a room she had never entered before, that was – foremost – empty. The door was a drawbridge, the air was humid and cold, the scent of moss and moist stones lingered in the air. The only source of light originated from the hallway she had taken, and no window allowed more light inside. Distraught, she let herself fall onto the ground, buried her face in her hands and sobbed to herself until something brushed past her leg. Lifting her gaze, she beheld another small dinnerware animal. It tilted its cup-head and lowered it while elevating its behind as though it attempted to challenge Alice to a game. “How curious,” she said to herself and stretched her hand towards the being. Gleefully, it evaded her hand. At this point, Alice couldn’t keep herself from giggling over the droll scenery. More scraping animals could be heard coming down the hallway. Soon, the room was filled with Alice’s subjects that gaily chased each other, performed something of a dance and made pyramids for her entertainment. Above their heads a fan began to rotate, spreading a bit of warm water. In the meantime, Alice’s laughter grew and grew with the echo, she clapped her hands and observed the event. The sound of scratching metal on china soon turned into a pleasant rondo, and eventually, Alice rose to join them. She danced with them in circles right beneath the fan, she chased after them and let them jump through her arm-rings. The scent in the air changed into something generic, a cleaning agent perhaps, regular soap or an industrial cleaner. When the party became increasingly wild, Alice wished to leave her subjects to themselves as to not disturb them. Before she left the room, she did a round of formal curtsies through the elliptical room.

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Call for Papers: Rebel Time

Alice RT

©KDP

The sweet taste of honey distracted Alice for a minute. She let it pass with her eyes closed. When she opened them again, she took notice of the tea party that had, seemingly, emerged out of thin air. To her left, the Red Queen raised her glass to her. Simultaneously, the dishes mimicked animals with forks for legs, napkins for wings, plates as torsos, cups for heads – or a similar variation of it.

Mockingly, the Red Queen bawled, “To your health, Queen Alice! Let this be your kingdom!” And amidst laughter from the other uncanny beings, she emptied her glass. Lost in the puzzling scene, Alice lacked any emotional response. Tardily, the confusion transformed into a furore. Her hands found their way to the golden tablecloth and tore it off, sending all the dishes flying to the floor. As the plates broke and the cutlery chimed, Alice announced,

„Rebels at Heart
Remain vociferous with Clubs
Are buried in diamonds
Or beaten with Spades!

The Rebel Time is upon us!”

 

Why nICHt? Rebel Time – Winter 2017/2018.
Send your prose, poetry, short drama and fragments to whynicht@univie.ac.at
Deadline: October 27th ’17
Submit your writings, otherwise off with your head!

Errare Humanum Est

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But soft! What light through yonder lecture hall window breaks?
It is Wittgenstein, and his girl is the sun!
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious errors,
who are already sick and pale with grief
That thou art far and more fair than them
But not their maid, since they are envious.
Their vestal livery is but sick and green
And none but fools do make them. Cast it off.
It is my girl; O it is my Wittgenstein Girl!
O that she knew she were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that
Her mouth discourses; I will answer it.
I will find her, I am too bold
‘tis not to me she speaks.
Yet.

OUT NOW: GOLDEN TIME

Alice stepped in and halted dazzled by the luminescence flowing from the walls of the colossal hall. Its panels were amber and golden. By her side, her own reflection accompanied her as she entered.

In the middle of the room, the familiar tea-party awaited her – yet no one was present. All cups, all napkins and tea kettles emitted a warm golden glow. Surprised by the scenery, Alice took a seat wondering whether the kettles poured melted gold or amber as well. In the silence of the room, Alice reached for the honey dipper. “One lick can’t hurt,” she thought to herself.

As soon as the honey dripped onto her tongue, Alice felt herself dissolve in the taste. She entered the realm of the Golden Time, and a mellifluous voice whispered,

And a Word Problem
spelled out I-D-C-U-H
gave leeway to The Time Once Upon
whatever The Kingdom of her Heart desired
I gilded for her.

 

We proudly proclaim: The Golden Time has arrived!

 

Call for Submissions: Golden Time

Alice was strolling around the Gothic castle as she reached a beautiful massive door, which she pushed, but it seemed locked. “At least this can’t be the Bluebeard’s chamber, I see no keyhole’, thought Alice musingly fingering the dark golden surface. Suddenly her fingertips sparked and a heavy door leaf moved…

Alice stepped in and halted dazzled by the luminescence flowing from the walls of the colossal hall. Its panels were amber and golden…

 

Why nICHt? Golden Time – Summer 2017.
Send your prose, poetry, short drama and fragments to whynicht@univie.ac.at
Deadline: 27 April ’17
Submit your writings, otherwise off with your head!