“Alice! Tea’s ready”… “Alice, it’s getting cold”… “Alice!” She tuned them out. “Involved” was too small a word for it. She was deep, deep in the story. Her story. Just her’s. Written for her, personally. “Alice, come down now please”… Just a little bit more. Just a couple. more minutes. She couldn’t leave it like this. “Alice, you can finish it later”… They didn’t get it. She couldn’t “finish it” now or later, the story swept her along, hitting every button, knowing which turn to take, which scene to set. Perfect. She had to carry on down. Curiouser and curiouser.