Daily we would talk. Day in, day out, we would greet each other with eager smiles. I would ask how Her day had been, just so She would stay longer; she would always smile knowingly and answer.
She would tell me about her passions: She spoke of foreign atrocities, domestic atrocities; She spoke of Her joys, Her fears, Her comforts, Her sorrows, Her loves. She would tell me about the mundane: She spoke of Her work, Her family, Her friends. But when she spoke, I saw foreign lands, with strange creatures, with beautiful landscapes, with marvelous cities; I saw fantastic adventures, with daring gentlemen, with fare maidens, with ferocious monsters – I was always the gentleman, and she was always the maiden. She removed me from the mundane, from the monotone, from the excruciatingly normal. She found me daily a drone, and made me daily a prince.
Her presence was a portal to a new world; to a place I never wanted to leave; a place I was alive; a true Wonderland.
She was my friend, my maiden, my queen, my Wonderland.
I would ask her about her day, just so she would stay a bit longer, but I never asked her name.
I can't tell you how much I love this.
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