It was a particularly cold and rainy day. The wind whipped the little droplets onto the windows, producing a soft drumming sound. I absolutely loved that sound. It always brought with it pleasant memories; cozying up across from the fireplace with a good book and a hot cup of tea, much like today, or being lulled asleep by its steady beat. I had never minded the cold or rain as long as I could stay inside. I wasn’t so much the outdoorsy type. Which was why I was perfectly happy to stay home, while my husband and son went to a little league football game. I cherished these rare days to myself.
The old clock chimed the time lazily. It rang out: one, two, three times. They would be back in around an hour. I picked up the book I had begun yesterday; Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland it stated in ornate gold letters across the front. I had been told many times to read it but hadn’t really gotten around to it before now. There always seemed so many other things to do, though I loved to read and tried to squeeze it in as often as I could.
I sat down in my big comfy armchair, opened the book and started reading from where I had left off. It was a rather strange story but I really enjoyed it so far.
I must have dosed off eventually. The odd sensation of falling jolted me awake. It was dark. Through my grogginess I slowly realized that I wasn’t in my living room anymore. Actually I was pretty sure I wasn’t even in my house anymore. I was lying on my belly on something hard and when I breathed in, I smelled dirt. Where the hell was I?