“Cleary or not, you know what is! C’est la vie!”

Alice’s head had begun to throb, almost as though shaking it had completely thrown her against a wall of wind. Blinking a few times, she found herself curled up in the middle of a minty looking meadow, her feet being inspected by a strange yet somewhat identifiable creature. It seemed to coil itself over its own feet (if Alice could reason that the creature truly had feet of its own), doubled over while doubled under at the same rate.

“What is what?” Alice mumbled, gingerly rubbing her head.

“’Tis all a matter of clarification, my dear!” the creature jubilantly exclaimed. “Surely ‘tis ill if you describe for too long, for how long-winded will you find yourself? How many words will you need? How distasteful ‘twill breathing be? You see?”

Dragging a hand through the minty grass, Alice rolled her eyes, entertaining the notion that she was once again in most peculiar company, company that wouldn’t give her a moment’s peace for a series of days and nights. As her vision overcame her throbbing head, she realized that the minty flavor of the grass was illuminated by what seemed like frost. Still, there wasn’t a hint of frigidness in the air. Quite the contrary: the creature spoke with the eager boisterousness of a nostalgic summer evening.

“Still, if there’s hope as to what you see and thusly describe, then certainly all the necessary words have already been scribed! You needn’t waste too much breath, but you see, there is more breath to be spared for comfort and the reconcilement of lost words for future re-cite-ation! ‘Tis all very generous, you see?”

Alice had begun to grow slightly annoyed with this creature: his erratic speech reminded her of a most unpleasant nostalgic summer evening that she had endured what seemed like years ago. Ready to give the creature a full piece of her mind, she sat up and attempted to stare it down. Granted, the only thing she ended up staring down--up and down and all around, to be precise--was the twinkling sky. It glowed with a gentle reverence, a whimsical majesty that rivaled all auroras she had ever read about.

“It’s incredible,” Alice whispered with utter delight.

The whimsical majesty suddenly turned sour, beginning to hulk through the sky as a sickly yellow. The grass that tickled Alice’s hands regressed into a brownish tint.

“Oh, look what you’ve done! What’ve you g-g- got to say for yourself?”

The sky regained its former glory, happily beckoning Alice with a precious and light-hearted charm. She swept her hands through the minty grass as she whirled around with a strong and curious pull, trying to attach a face to this creature. When she finally caught sight of it, there was very little of a face to attach. The creature didn’t appear to have any sort of straightness to its body, nor to its wiry (almost invisible, Alice noted) limbs or its penetratingly innocent eyes.

Alice opened her mouth to reply, aiming to reason “It’s not my fault,” although the back of her head tut-tutted with all the authority of the professor in reasoning that it was her fault indeed. Before she could even begin to form the words, the creature’s nimble hands pressed her lips together. Alice tried to recoil, but the creature’s strength was remarkable beyond words. She could only flail her arms around in frustration.

“Rephrase that, my curious dear,” the creature said. “Maybe you can’t remember what happens here?”

“Can’t remember?” Alice finally gasped out. “Forgive me, but I’m not sure I do remember?”

“Can you? Do you? Well, surely if you do, then you can, but perhaps you’ve forgotten if you even do what you can do. But what can you do? C’est la vie!”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “Is French your first language?”

“My dear,” the creature warmly began, attempting to bow, “I come from a long line of language. Why, I’m a language unto myself, wrapped in words and weaving considerable contraptions and contradictions from insightful idioms. The name is, but soon may not be, C, you see, finally?”

Alice felt the urge to blink a few more times. This C seemed to lack full curvature. “You look more like a parenthesis.”

“My dear,” the creature joyfully proclaimed, slinking around behind Alice, “I’ve never had children, much less any your size! I’m sure your sister would agree, you see?”

Alice perked up. “How did you know I have a sister?”

C appeared to ignore her. “No, see, I can only grow; indeed, I don’t know what exactly I’ll be once the words have been taken out of me, but I don’t like to think about more than I can write at one time.”

“Excuse me, but what about my sister?” Alice tried to interject.

C began to tumble through the minty grass like a leaf. Sparkling frost flew up and shone preciously against Alice’s eyes. With her curiosity overpowering her awe, she took off after this odd creature. “You still haven’t said anything about my sister!”

“My dear, what can I say? I only know what I’m told, you see?”

“No! Quite frankly, I don’t!”

“But I certainly do! C’est la vie!”

Alice’s growing frustration began to simmer. “Will you stop rolling around like a loon? This is serious!”

“This Lune is serious,” C maintained, emphasizing his shape. “Why, this Lune turns the tide of history, if history is worth telling, in which case history must certainly turn first! There are those who look to the Lune with such longing, wishing that time would find the rock smaller! Of course, ‘tis a longing that must foresee history! One can’t come before the other unless there is a procliv’ty for infin’ty, you see?”

Nothing made Alice see, but everything gave her a scheming little idea. “It’s not fair!”

The frost the C kicked up as he rolled about turned to black, peppery dust. His figure stood shaded by a foreboding sky that seemed to fold its cloudy arms in dismay. He lunged toward Alice and wrapped himself around her. She struggled to wriggle free, but C only perched his arms disapprovingly on Alice’s shoulder. “What stirs such riffraff in such a stirring place? Are you so dull and untidy as to turn off this wonder? Or do you simply prefer to turn on the r-r-rot?”

The sky resolved to put away its anger, drawing out the wonder of the land once more.

“That should be sufficient,” C sighed, letting Alice go free. “You can never be too sure. Those bugs keep coming back; yes, they still haven’t left! You can never be too sure, you see?”

Alice sat down resolutely, resting her chin on her fist and closing her eyes. “Bugs?”

“Someone like you shouldn’t be so ignorant,” C chided. “You’re lucky that I’ve been told what to do with riffraff like you.”

Alice’s eyes snapped open. “And what exactly is that?”

C slid playfully over and began to snuggle against Alice. “Why, refuse to give up until you see! I’m useless without you, you see, for if you don’t see long enough, then maybe I won’t see long enough, and then maybe everything will be too short and I’ll be too easy to forget and I don’t like to be forgotten, you see?”

Annoyed and tired of the banter, Alice shrugged. “C’est la vie.”

C looked despondent, but only for a moment. He suddenly brightened with laughter. “You do see, I believe! Some might reason a complement, but I’m far from concerned with the details for once! This is just too grand!”

Alice tried to reply again, but C simply put a wily hand up and continued. “My dear, you are a delightfully curious one, but I don’t think you’re in any place to question the frame you’re in. If you could frame this frame within a frame that frames your own oppo-si-tion to this frame and declares that frame null, perhaps we could get somewhere, else you are clearly out of your frame and need proper guidance to frame yourself within my frame, you see?”

Having given up on whatever her reply would’ve been, Alice simply blinked in reply.

“Splendid!” C brightened up. “Perhaps you’ll be a suitable companion at the ceremony indeed! For where two may be, if all is in the proper frame, the circle of loops may be nullified and all complete! Granted, I must warn you, do watch what you say with greater direction!”

“Discretion,” Alice suggested.

“I’ve never been told such a word,” C replied. “’Tis all in the direction. You don’t want to take us places that we don’t want to go, would you agree?”

Alice felt as though a tickling gust of wind was encouraging her to nod.

“Then we are in agreement!” C delightfully exclaimed. “We are going to places that we want to go to, knowing that your thoughts are mine while mine may only yet be yours; there has never been a more perfect--connection, you see?”

“I beg your pardon,” Alice said, “but precisely what lim--er, hinders your vocabulary?”

C’s eyes narrowed as two dark figures began to approach along the horizon. As Alice tried to shift her gaze into focus, she felt as though the tiny blobs looked somehow friendly against the inviting illumination of the shimmering sky. Nevertheless, C began to tug at her sleeve. “There are far too many glatches to be worried about.”

“What on earth is a glatch?” Alice wondered.

“If a glatch isn’t on this earth you speak of, then certainly a glatch is nothing. Here, however, such is something, something for a great nothing that does everything, a mischievous nonesuch really. You see?”

Alice rose and shook her head. “No, but I don’t suppose I will all too soon.”

C winked. “C’est la vie.”