The Tweedles

A Tale of Wonderland

‘Twas brillig. In fact, it was a few minutes after brillig. Dee forced open his crusty eyes. A gently heaving Himalaya of pale flesh filled his field of vision, and quivered as he groaned. Somewhere beyond the peak, he felt his toes wriggle under the covers, and gritting his teeth, he swung himself sideways and felt cold air rush over his feet. They landed dully on the remnants of what had once been carpet, and Dee caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length looking glass in the corner.

He winced. It was a sight that never got any prettier.

He waddled into the bathroom, moving as slowly as a walrus across sand. Leaning over the sink, he examined the melancholy creases of his face. He pushed a pudgy finger gingerly into his eye socket and wormed it around to dig out the sleep. Reaching for his toothbrush, he sighed as it squeaked in alarm and flew out the window. That was the sort of thing he would have once found charming, before the big toothbrush breeders began making a killing in exports. He rummaged in the cupboard below the sink and pulled out his spare toothbrush. It bit him and scurried under the bath. This he had never found charming.

Tears of pain pricking his eyes, Dee sucked on his brush-wound, and gave up on his teeth. He splashed hot water in his face and pushed a comb through his hair, both of which produced more pain, and lumbered back to the bedroom.

Enveloped in the tartan monstrosity he was pleased to term a dressing gown, Dee headed for the kitchen. As he left the bedroom, he brushed past the chest of drawers, on which lay a small glass bottle with a cork in the top. Inside the bottle, sailing proudly on nothing and glistening with new lacquer, was an exquisite tiny wooden galleon, carved out to the most minute detail, spinnaker boldly thrusting its chest towards new worlds, and a lion rampaging on the flag hanging from the mast.

And at the prow, the beauty of her wooden face too small for the casual observer to make out, a girl grew gracefully out of the ship’s hull and pointed the way forward with her perfectly sculpted nose. In the motionless air of the bottle, her golden hair streamed behind her, and her blue dress gleamed.