Belated, and Wicked

Not quite sure what prompted this, other than the prompt, but it is what 'came'.

*

One could hardly expect anything more
Than a husband with a tendency to snore
You might try pillows, underwear, Kleenex,
or the molting cockatoo named Phoenix
Don’t forget to stuff them in tight
(The bully! The retard! The bore!)
But you’re probably stuck with your plight
(Alas, Oho, It’s not Right!)
And I’ll try not to say, you wanton old whore
That that's what you get...
For having married a desperate old John called Teeny Felix

Alice was still crying—although it is hard to believe it possible, considering the considerable taxation she had already placed upon her tear ducts—when she stumbled upon Madame Mabel. At this point in the evening, the darkness had set in, and all but the smallest of stars had come out. And so, Alice had been able to stumble along, every so often bumping into a tree limb or a wolf or a Construction Worker. Each of these times, she would hiccupingly apologize, before brushing off their embraces or wolf calls, and pressing on. Yet, she was clearly getting tired, and the night seemed to squish in all around her. The day’s arrogance had slipped from her shoulders at the sight of the sun dipping down below the mountain ridge, and suddenly Alice wanted very much to know how to get home, how to find Kansas, or Rosebud.

“Whatever are you crying for?” Alice suddenly heard, and could not for the life of her locate the voice. True, she had stumbled into a particularly blind alley of trees, and the limbs above were brambling and clutching, but the voice sounded as if it were just at her left elbow. Left or right, she tried to remember—attempting to clarify in her thinking whether left was left to the observer, or whether left was left to the observed. Was she Observed or Observer was the questions she had of yet left unresolved, although she was about to tackle that question when she heard the voice again, this time behind her head, so she didn’t have to decide whether it was left or right, considering that she had only one of those bodily appendages, and so couldn’t be too confused to spin around.

“Oh, never mind, you’ve fortunately stopped…” said the voice, and this time when she spoke Alice could find her. In fact, it was rather ridiculous that she hadn’t seen the woman long ago, backlit as she was by a red light bulb, and what appeared to be a porch attached to the light bulb, and behind that a house attached to the porch. It wasn’t a small house either. Its garbled windows—bedecked by a kind of lacy outdoor curtain—were in fact so immense and bold that Alice could see not only her own reflection, but the reflection of a whole huge forest behind her, and behind that, a parking lot, and behind that, a subway station where a gaggle of Construction Workers were piling out of one traincar (which explained why she kept bumping into them), and rushing with incredible vim towards the lacy house.

The woman was a curious sort, Alice thought, and wondered if it was customary in these parts to wear black-netted panties (so little fabric too!) without any skirt, and red and black velvety corsets. But ala! Alice had to admire her color scheme, for perched on the top of her head was a loosely cordoned pile of carmine curls, and directly below—two very dark eyes with even darker lashes. Her face seemed poised and neutral, and she seemed to be studying Alice’s white frock, and her yellow-white tresses (quite a ghastly mess after all the hiking she’d been doing), her very large sweetly disposed eyes, which were not only blue but also slightly pink from all the crying. Abruptly, the neutrality vanished, and in its place a smile that was a gentle as it was rapacious.

“If, little girl,” she said again, and this time Alice noticed a kind of whispery huskiness, “you are lost, have fallen down the rabbit hole, so to speak, then you are perfectly welcome to come in and share a bed somewhere within this excellent establishment.”

And as the crowd of Construction Workers finally stumbled onto the porch and fairly nearly swamped the doors, Alice reached out and took the extended hand, feeling grateful that she wouldn’t have to spend the night out in the wild out-of-doors, at least not tonight.