“Drinking With Alice”
I Am Alice. Possibly strange for a sixty-three-year-old man to write that he’s a seven-and-a-half-year-old girl. But not really. Alice replies to the Caterpillar’s question of identity with, I–I hardly know, sir, just at present –at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been … Continue reading “Drinking With Alice”