The Stars and the Cookie Jar

The wind came off the water and snapped your hair like a banner, and the clouds and the wave-crests were the same color as the salt-worn rocks underfoot. You said, "Well, if I drown, we'll know it's all just stories," or something as flippant and shivering, and I studied the scale of ivory barnacle under my left palm while you put your clothes in a neat pile on the dried-black seaweed, sand and bits of shell already in the folds of cloth like something abandoned to the shore. The slap and swirl of the waves covered any sound, and when I looked out over the water, I saw only the green-grey ridge and fall of ocean; but presently the seal's head came up, and, eventually, you came back.

Remember that day we accidentally fell through the entrance to the Castle secret passageways? We couldn't climb back up, so we followed them along, and when we met the hare and the hatter having a mad tea party neither of us was surprised. The tea was excellent, but the biscuits were stale. You discussed philosophy with the dormouse while I recited "The Walrus and the Carpenter" in Olga-voice. We got back above ground eventually, but not before another detour through the secret NASA labs under Rabb Steps caused us to learn more than we wanted to know about the interior of our intestines during free fall. When you tried to explain to Prof. Chu why you were late to class, she just stared at you. I was lucky and had writing workshop - Olga was delighted to hear about our excursion, and wanted to know the exact location where we fell in. I think she was hoping to find the Caterpillar and some magic mushrooms.