029: O Frabjous Day!

The car runs softly. The road is bare, but on either side walls of snow rise, the bottom edges dusted with sand and grime. Here and there small banks of grass poke out, but it has not been long enough for the coltsfoots to sprout yet. It is muddy, and the sky promises rain or snow or something in between. The car still runs softly, going at a solid eighty. Inside it is warm and music plays. The driver has left her coat on the back-seat and pulled up the sleeves of her jumper. One hand is on the wheel, the other holds a buttered sandwich. A take-away cup of hot chocolate sits in the cupholder. She sings.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

Written by: Katrine H.

Poem and song credit:
Lewis Carroll. Jabberwocky.
Erutan. Jabberwocky.