Her Name Was Alice

The white rabbit watched the shiver move from his front paws to his whiskers. It made his heart skip a bit on its way.

“Her name was Alice,” the rabbit said finally.

The psychotherapist shook his head as if after a long sleep and sat up straight in his chair. He almost forgot about the rabbit who usually didn’t say much except for a few remarks on being late, and time in general.

“Alice,” repeated the therapist.

The rabbit fell silent for a bit. He touched his whiskers trying to stop them vibrating. But his whiskers got way too excited from his previous statement and refused to be tamed.  

“Pretty much just Alice,” said the rabbit, “She was wonderfully insane.”

A pocket of his waistcoat rang softly.

“She was never satisfied with her height,” added the rabbit, “Not to mention a strange addiction to mushrooms.”

The therapist felt there was more to the story than mushrooms and decided to press the rabbit for more.

“How did you meet this Alice?” he asked subtly.

The white rabbit turned around to look at the therapist. He twitched his nose.

“That’s the whole point. I have never met her.”

The therapist let his eyebrows creep up.

“Alice,” said the rabbit, “met me.”

He told his therapist how she followed him through the rabbit hole. In the end she disappeared and the rabbit was never able to find her. He looked everywhere for her. Now she seemed like a dream, an illusion created by smoke and mushrooms. A lost little girl that possibly never even existed.

“Possibly?” asked the therapist.

“But how can I be sure?” said the rabbit, “I always had my back to her. I heard her steps. I would see the blue of her dress briefly, but maybe I dreamt her.”

The therapist thought about it for a minute.

“Would you like to dream her again?”

The rabbit dropped his head in trembling paws. His shoulders shivered slightly, and tiny drops of water fell to the floor. His entire figure, now so small and miserable, darkened. The rabbit was sobbing, trying to hide his tears with visible embarrassment. Even his little tail sadly jumped up and down with every sob.

“More than anything in this world,” said the rabbit finally, “but I fear I’m too late. and she will never come back.”

The therapist felt quite sorry for the rabbit. He took a tiny paw in his huge hands and stroked it carefully.

“Maybe she isn’t lost yet,” he said to the rabbit.

The rabbit looked at him with big eyes full of tears. His nose twitched hopefully and he smiled through the tears.

“Her name is Alice and she is coming back,” said the white rabbit.