Here I finally submit something to this site. This is an Alice in Wonderland piece centering around the Queen of Hearts. Thus far I have two, kind of three chapters. And lord knows if any more will ever surface. But I wanted to toss it out in the ether and see what happens. Enjoy!

The queen of hearts herself seems not to have one.

Or rather she hides it well, for a fear of cracks and splinters,

or perhaps a full-fledged collapse.

For love is a thing that makes or breaks.

And she, feeling obligation, will not let that entanglement

distract her from the rule of Wonderland...

The Path

The cold was biting. Branches of what looked like long-dead trees stretched over bare patches of snow-covered ground as if reaching out to grab their brothers on the opposite side. There was a path there through these ancient boughs. A path that was presumably made by man, though none could say who. It caught attention in this barren landscape as the only thing of color for miles. Bright stone slabs laid end to end comprised its length, each one carved at its front and back ends in order to fit into the fore and aft slabs like pieces of a puzzle, despite a space of about six inches between them. Some of the pieces later on had curved or angled shapes to allow for the turning of the path, but the general shape of things was square. Sometimes it turned without purpose, doubling back on itself only feet away from the original line, or looping in a small circle, only to continue onward. It never led anywhere, or never led anywhere worth leading to.

The people nearby any of it's existence saw it as a relic of some unknown past. It stretched far off into the distance, heading always away. Away from whatever it lay by. Whatever it led from. In addition to the color there were words, symbols, what have you. Very few were distinguishable by any in regards to translation. There was only one English word through miles of the thing, and very few others in languages found on the Earth as we know it. Attempts had been made to walk the length of it, but something had always prevented further inquiry at a point: a realization of some older artifact found along its way, an accident that stopped the research in its tracks. A great portion of the stone path here where it had snowed, was laid in loops and curls around German mountains, high up and out of sight of houses and roads. Though it did not snow now, the already fallen flakes that rested in the boughs of the trees blew off in swirls and sheets, giving the effect of weather in motion.

And here, where no other creature stirred, in the cold winter wind and deep chilling snow, stood a girl. Another, rather small set of eyes observed her blearily from its home in a hole. She was of average height, or so, five foot six maybe. A coat was wrapped closely around her, its color probably meant to have been gray, but a hint of red accompanying. The hood was rimmed in a sort of dark and light brown mix of nappy fur, fake, no doubt; and an extremely long scarf of thin stripes of pinks reds and browns trailed from within the hood, blowing around her skinny jean-clad legs and arms with pocketed hands. Her breath came steadily, the clouds of warm vapor ripped away as soon as they exited her mouth, clearing the curtain of black hair flying about her face. It wasn't apparent how it was she'd reached this portion of the path, as no footprints were visible around her in any direction. To the squirrel in his hole the girl hadn't been there, and then she had. It was as simple as that. Her head tilted in observation of the path before her, followed by a look left, and then right. It ended there, with her chocolate eyes following the colored stones as far as they would allow, tracing the curves and loops, ups and downs, until it disappeared around a rocky cliff. She was waiting. Someone would be coming. Who they were and why they came were facts this entity had not yet uncovered.