|
Post by Ser Mehran S'Disraeli on Jan 23, 2009 20:44:18 GMT -5
Footprints appeared in the loosened dirt with no foot to plant them there. The perfect prints continued down the road until they found themselves at the trunk of an old tree. A poof of dirt rose into the air and settled unceremoniously as though whatever had made the footprints had left the faithful grains for greener faires. Indeed, the creator of the footprints settled into the tree quietly, gazing on those that passed. Its lips widened into a crescent-shaped grin when some thing caught its watchful eye; otherwise, all was silent.
'Twas brilig, and the slithy toves. Did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimsy were the borogroves. And the mome raths outgrabe. The words echoed through the leaves of the twisted tree, leaving many a listener confused of their source. In the tree, no one noticed the Cat with the toothy grin.
|
|
|
Post by mor lhach on Feb 5, 2009 13:58:44 GMT -5
have u ever picked up a copy of the annotated "Alice"
very kewl, footnotes, definitions, fun facts no one else will ever want to know
if u haven't u should
|
|
|
Post by Ser Mehran S'Disraeli on Feb 7, 2009 14:50:42 GMT -5
I haven't, but now I will. thank you for the tip!
|
|