Somewhere between the corkscrew and inevitably the cork there is the small face of what she thinks is a calico cat but it could also be a tiger or a strangely placed bowl of mac and cheese. Of course for one to experience this phenomenon they must encounter the correct corkscrew and the correct cork completely oblivious to the fact that such peculiar anomalies may occur. They are also to place it at the perfectly ideal point where the light can flood in just barely from the sunset ten minutes past the golden hour. Now the verilimisitude of these of these statements were never meant to be pondered not even by the blessed, cursed and intoxicated drunkards whose thoughts will never be of any use to society.
This woman was stout, one would mistake her for a child if it weren't for the fact that her hair was already beginning to thin and waxed into a shade of grey that perfectly embodied her inner tepidness towards the world. Many nights she spent crying tears as a fountain almost like her alcohol consumption. Soaking into whatever hair still remained in a shade or burnt hickory. She favored Sangria, which has corks that have the tendency to be just a little bit magical. She would often open it with a corkscrew she purchased from a flea market eager to not appear nearly as depressed and deranged as her few remaining friends had conceived of her.
The woman looked intently at the calico cat or tiger or strangely placed bowl of mac and cheese and then she looked up at the sun whose influence was now dim in the sky. She adjusted her glasses that she often left crooked to either be different or just because she simply did not feel like it. Now she wanted to make sure her eyes were deceiving her they weren't but there is no way that a narrator can tell her that. The cat whispers secrets, secrets that plummets one into the arctic waters of the place that doesn't really have a name because no one has really decided on one yet.
"Hey lady you want me to show you something cool." That cat spoke with such anisotropic mannerisms he was more snake-like than actually cat-like or anything resembling the feline species. However it has to be whatever the eyes of the beholder says that it is because beauty is on the eye of the beholder.
"Why would I trust something that literally looks like an orange creamsicle?" An orange creamsicle? That's new, how is it not what the beholder has says it is. No, no one should focus on such trivial matters.
"Come on it's really simple all we gotta do is have a staring contest.If you win then I will show you um, well, no one has actually come up with a good name for it yet. At least if they have they've never lived to tell the tale" The orange creamsicle cat snickered knowing that he was well versed above all others in his craft.
"No, if living alone as a woman has taught me anything it's don't trust a stranger who says he wants to show you something cool." This woman has a rather perceptive mind, despite her awful drinking habits and rather sophomoric taste in wine and men.
"Yeesh, what kind of life have you had lady?" For a moment he was sympathetic before he wiped it away like it was last week contraband. He replaces it with a rather sly and very suspecting grin. "Very well then you've already won the staring contest because I just blinked. So I'll see you on the other side." His grand escape as the sun disappeared from the canvas of the sky and the world became dark as, and the vision of woman began to aggressively stir like Euroclydon. Only she was not Paul and would not be so easily delivered.
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Here the sky is never the same shade of purple. It should be common knowledge that the architecture of the realm which cannot be named is several land masses which are perfectly arranged into columns of echelons. One might recognize and most identify it's visual features to be nearly identical to one of those water feature consisting over several bowls where each pour a gentle stream of water into the next and a gentle background noise for meditation.
It is also a land that is groaning waiting desperately to be thoroughly inhabited by some sort of creature that had warm blood pulsing through it's arteries and some sort of reason to live within it's mind. No matter how basic of trivial the reason, it was something beyond instinct. For it longed for logic and reason and pangs of it's labor were great as it wretched for a rebirth.
The woman opened her eyes to embrace a hyper saturated world filling with pintoresco to the brim of it's wine glass, almost deafening and blinding from her safe side of monochrome. So much so she let out a scream or some sort of wailing cry, which was almost apathetic it didn't invoke any sort of excitement. This wail escaping from her oral cavity embodied what many would describe as a mood.
"Why did this happen to me today?" Suddenly the wailing became fathomable words. However the words didn't mean too much because it's not like she had any special plan other than her Sangria. The sangria will be waiting for her when she comes back though.
"Hey! I heard that you know!" What? Can she actually hear me or is some sort of external noise from the dense jungle of mushrooms to her right? Or maybe something from the steady ebbing stream of sulfuric fish.
"Do you have any plans of helping me out of here or are you going to be as useless as everyone else." The woman dusted of the dried mid of what remained of her office uniform. Her knees lifted from the ground and for the very first time she stood in the world. I suppose I could nudge her in the right direction?
"No, no this isn't my first time. I've definitely been here before. Does it still not have a name?" It is dreadfully sad if someone is so terribly obsessed with alcoholic beverages they've encounters this place once, but twice is, very very depressing. That is if she is even telling the truth.
"I'll take that as a yes? Last time I was here I was killed by falling to abyss,that tempted me with a floating cloud of guacamole. So do you know where I am supposed to go." I must admit that even I have not heard of this alleged cloud of guacamole which does challenge the credibility of her claim. However she might be the only person who can save the jabberwocky from the one without a name.
"Yeah I'm definitely not doing that. Oh look at that." The woman brings attention to a gargantuan clock situated atop an elephant shaped tier of the echelon. It was connected to a giant bath tub and bubble rushed through it's pipes like blood though human veins. In fact the entire clock functioned almost identical to a beating heart. "It's cocktail hour! Um, listen, I have no idea where you are or what you have to do, but I'm just gonna chill with the bottomless margaritas for the next hour" She would scale a fence at velocities unknown to man for free alcohol. That is something that only I have the power to witness in this land. If only she understood that she couldn't run away from me.
"That's creepy."
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In the bathtub of margarita land there lied a great mermaid who was too fishy for the unnamed world to consider her satisfactory. It made perfect sense because Margarita Mermaid is alliteration and everything makes sense when alliterated. Alongside the mermaid swam two fish sporting ties that were well equipped with muscular arms and of course the necessity knives. B. Fishardi and T. Fishila whose names coincidentally sounded very close alcoholic beverages.
As the woman threw herself over the final stretch of the fence the mermaid immediately began to speak. Her voluptuous body splashing the hopefully water sending it flooding over the tub. "Wow, a human, she's so cute, what do you think? B., T., do you want the head or the arms? I get dibs on the rest."
"What how did you get here already?" I tried telling you of my omnipresence.
"Um are you alright? You might not want her B.. Her brain might be permanently intoxicated." No inhumane creature of this land ever felt a need to conceal their true intentions under a guise .
"Yeah, I kind of noticed that already" That could have been directed towards anyone but she kept it perfectly anonymous. "Listen if you want to do a staring contest with me for my life or something like that, I'm not interested." Of course she wasn't interested, but no it was actually-
"No, I'm not like that cheap bowl of mac and cheese, I'm expensive. So instead you have to participate in my deadly trivia." The spiky frills of margarita's back emerged as a warning to her prey that she was a dangerous force.
"Listen no offense but you neon pink hair looks more like bubbly vomit and you probably sell your bath water online. Also I could literally just walk away if I wanted to." On this scene of turmoil there was also a door labeled exit that definitely did lead everyone who walked in this land before safely out of here.
"No you can't you don't even know where you can go, and I can kill you any second if I really wanted to. See these spikes each of them produce an extremely venomous secretion that can paralyze you in four seconds and slowly kill you over the course of hours still you become my bath water." Margarita was extremely loquacious and continued to babble about the various ways that she could kill the alcoholic, but most of them were far too brutal and obscene for a gentleman to repeat
"Ew, what''s wrong with you? Y'know what, I don't care, I'm out of here." The woman quickly sprinted away from the degenerate mermaid who likes to think that everyone is under her captivity. However in this moment a human once more proved that no human was under her control, still in desperation Margarita couldn't simply let her. She sent the fish to pursue the woman still they could not make it very far because they don't really have legs and those are kind of important when chasing someone on land. In nearly moments which felt like an eternity she threw herself into the exit closing her eyes.
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The woman lay sprawled out on the floor submerged in a disheveled mass of pillows and blankets. She emerging from her world of platinum to find that the world is still dyed in a golden hue. Every iota was exactly how she left it, even the dust particle of the air had barely navigated from it's initial position. It appeared that it had ended and this chapter of the woman's life was coming to and abrupt yet also well desired end. As she opened her eyes a little bit of her old sanguine appearance from many year ago returned to her cheeks. The sangria on her bed stand and the curtains were open just enough exposing the window underneath.
"I'm back! I'm back? Wait why can I still hear you?" I don't know, okay, lady? I've tried very hard to maintain my demeanor but I can't see it if it's not here okay? "Yeah? You're saying that like it's my fault. Could you do me a favor and just be quiet for a few moments I have a headache." The platinum sheets began to rustle and indicated the fact that some other entity was emitting it's presence with a sense of uncertainty thick withing the air. The woman's breath was restricted her headache continuing to swell. For if she had not even had her own home to drown in the security of loneliness.
The face of a puppy emerged from a blanket, a puppy that sporting the tail of a dragon. "What is this?" It looks like this was only the beginning of her adventure, the great Jabberwocky had followed her into the human world. It might be awhile before she gets to indulge in her decadent sangria.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
