Alice in Nightmareland

ALICE IN GOTHIC LAND ©

I looked out the spare room window. A couple of dogs were running over the glittery, fresh grass of the school field. The grey sunlight gave the sight a sublime touch. Sad memories of my own, now gone dog, took over me for a few minutes but I shook them out quickly; I didn’t want to get upset, not again. Like every Saturday morning I was already left on my own in that semidetached house that had welcomed me gratefully once, but that now had become both my jail and my fortress. The day ahead seemed interminable and I was not sure of what to make of it. I had not been told how long I was supposed to wait for, if somebody was going to pick me up to go to town or if I was meant to stay there until tea-time. As I tried to organise myself around…

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