Three Line Tales: Expanded – Fiction – All Doors Lead to Wonderland #amwriting #fiction #3LineTales


Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.


Credit: Luis Alfonso Orellana via Unsplash


“Alice, is that you? Well, what door will you enter, the red door or the blue? The up or the down; it doesn’t matter you know, both are the same.” She fluffed her pony tale and straightened the lapels of her sky-blue blazer.

“Can’t Wonderland find another Alice? It’s a common name, you know. Just because my grandmother was, and my mother was, and somehow great-Grandpa Wren’s magical blood flows in my veins along with the first, Alice — doesn’t mean I have to follow in their footsteps. I left that world. I chose to leave. Why won’t you let me be?”

A grin appeared between the doors. “Dear girl, it’s you who can’t forget us; you found the doors home. That’s why you’re our guardian, but you as any Alice, must choose your path. Thus, you have before you two doors. Which door, dear Alice? You do have to decide. Time won’t wait.”

Alice trembled, and without thinking her hand turned the knob on the red door. Then, she was falling as the Cheshire cat laughed and Destiny caught up with Alice.

She’d tried to disappear, to become another young woman. But as her predecessors, including her dear mother, she was a guardian of Wonderland. The land of magic wouldn’t have it another way. She fell, and when she woke up, she sighed as brilliant flowers hovered over her whispering.

They beamed at her, brimming with questions. “Oh, Alice is it true? Have you come home. You’re the new guardian now, and your mother been waiting; her time is at an end. Five-hundred years is a long time not too see one’s daughter. Your time to serve has come. The white queen has decreed, as do your grandfather Wren’s people.”

Alice blew her hair from her face. “What’s the point of free will if your choices all lead you back to one path?”

The flowers shrugged. “Tulips and Marigolds don’t think of such things; we simply are.”


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Photo Challenge: Poem – Bop – “Tin Man of Dreams” #dreams #amwriting #poetry #photochallenge


Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this photo challenge. I missed this one, as is was from two weeks ago. 

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Credit: Matt Dixon

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Yesterday I heard him move, silent tin man, 

Rusted, squeaking hinges, yet light spans.

A tin man with no heart inside his chest, 

His hallow metal barrel chest detests, 

The emptiness he feels without his heart, 

A  lit heart on his head instead restarts

Tin man full of dreams, rusted metal parts.

He may feel brittle without movement, 

Stuck in a cupboard, his joints need soothing

Some oil to grease his soldier-like steps, 

To urge his metal mouth to smile more yet.

But he still sits hidden, you wouldn’t know he, 

Has never stopped lighting his space pleased

His heart is not of darkness, but sun beams, 

Edison’s gift, fairy’s magic, lights streaming

Tin man full of dreams, rusted metal parts. 

Rusted limbs matter little, but a boy, 

Loves this enchanted robot, mystic toy. 

He cleans him up, oils his joints perfectly

The robot smiles, glow growing immersed

New feelings, memories lost, but at last, 

He’s a night light, child’s toy, great love amassed. 

Tin man full of dreams, rusted metal parts. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.