Suddenly a little dark cloud landed on her left shoulder, Alice turned abruptly, trying to figure out its shape.
It was impossible to describe. At first it seemed to look like a wolf, but instantly shifted to represent a bizarre clock, which then left her taken aback having turned into a bat. It circled her suspiciously and settled down on a branch on the shape of a huge ebony raven. Alice expected it to caw “Nevermore”, but nothing happened. “Ah, it’s not December yet,” crossed her mind.
The dark mist expanded until it had enveloped Alice like a cloud all around. While she felt an unearthly limb caressing her pale skin, a clear sound of deep voice appeared in her mind, uttering the words the meaning of which was unknown to Alice, and three figures emerged from the fog and were slowly drifting above her. Alice could tell she was a part of a strange soul’s play in which she was a prisoner. How could she escape? She was watching them, two were totally dim, but
“The other was fair, as fair as can be, with great masses of golden hair and eyes like pale sapphires. I seemed somehow to know her face, and to know it in connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at the moment how or where. All three had brilliant white teeth that shone like pearls against the ruby of their voluptuous lips. There was something about them that made me uneasy, some longing and at the same time some deadly fear. I felt in my heart a wicked, burning desire that they would kiss me with those red lips.”
Alice decided it was high time to escape as the dark silhouettes were approaching fast to embrace her in their midst. She threw the magazine she had carried along at them. “Why don’t you drop dead?!” she furiously yelled as she was leaping over …