Rabbit Hole Trilogy

Black Rabbit Hole Alice, with feet of clay, has taken her destined leap. The rabbit hole, black hole in truth, swallows her whole. Transmogrified, transcended, she emerges... aware of her confusion. Obfuscation of reality, emotion sublimated, Alice is born at last without prior death. Where is the purpose? The audience applauds, their seal flippers waggling... protoplasm dissolves once again into the primordial soup. 10/17/2001 Rabbit Hole Redux Once again, Alice, with feet of clay, stands at the brink - a decision to be made. Leap blindly forward into the dark unknown, or remain comfortably safe in her familiar Hell. Progress, change, adventure beckon, but fear cloys the pulsing veins. Anxious knots deny courage like stones weighing down the soul. In indecision lost, doomed to failed potential, drowns her sorrow in drink while opiates dull her mind. Break this vicious cycle - inaction is the bane. Take charge of Destiny's whip and loose self-pity's fetters. Take the plunge! The water, though cold, will buoy you on high with the salt from all our tears. 10/29/2001 Rabbit Hole - the final chapter At long last the decision made, Alice turns her back on change to quietly join the mainstream. Deny opportunity, defy fate - marry the boy next door and live the 'normal' life. Years pass in quiet suburbia. Alice leads the PTA and the school band boosters. Three children, two cars and a cat. Idyllic it seems, but somehow all is not sublime in Smallville. From the depths of the rabbit hole the darkness wells up. Dank mist spreads over land and seeps through cracks in walls. Reclaiming what is rightfully his, the daemon touches Alice in her sleep. Her mind snaps and all logic escapes the broken cage. Dementia takes hold of the now blackened soul. In the dead of night the deed is done - her family lies bludgeoned in their beds. Cackling madly, naked Alice races through the streets towards her final destiny. The rabbit hole looms before her, beckoning, engulfing her as she leaps. At last she has returned home. fin 10/29/2001 Written January 24th, 2002 © on Apr 21 2002 12:57 PM PST, Heinz Scheuenstuhl    0 • 10