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Runner up: Cheshire Cat stole
By Carrie Griffin
Abruptly the path ended, its careful stone border falling away into clumps of grass and wild mint as the mulberry trees grew thicker. After all the oddness of the day, she wished fervently that she could just sit down in some sunny meadow among the Queen Anne's lace and knit quietly. Alice sighed and wandered through the low forest, wondering what might possibly happen next.
Soon she could hear a muted roar from the woods in front of her. “Whatever could that be,” she mused, thinking she might come upon a small waterfall. The sound increased as she pushed through the leaves and finally entered a large clearing.
A large white silkworm was reclining on a chaise longue under an enormous mulberry tree, a cup of tea in one hand. A huge basket of leaves sat at its feet, and as she watched, it reached into the basket, daintily selected a leaf, and popped it into his mouth.
“Good day,” Alice said to the silkworm.
“And good day to you!” exclaimed the silkworm. “Would you care for some mulberry tea?” it continued, still chewing the leaf.
“Oh! No thank you,” replied Alice. She thought, disapprovingly, “How rude to talk with your mouth full.”
“Oh, I must eat constantly! Doctor's orders!” as if it could read her thoughts. “Can you hear my brothers and sisters and cousins in the forest? After our dear mother died, we are all terribly distraught but we must soldier on.” The silkworm, who had at first seemed quite jolly, suddenly looked downcast.
“I'm so sorry about your mother,” replied Alice, who was feeling quite disturbed by the continuing sounds of mastication emanating from the forest. Hesitantly, she asked: “Do you eat only leaves?”
“Oh yes! White mulberry is our very favourite!
“Thank you ever so much for your touching thoughts about Mum. This is all I have left of her,” it said, looking melancholy and producing a small basket of fine silk thread. “Do you knit?” it asked.
“You see,” said the silkworm, “I would so like a memorium of her. Some token I could have about me all the time to remember her beauty and grace. I was her favourite,” he sniffed. “The spiders are all quite busy with their own projects and I have not yet found the time to learn the knack of it. Could you possibly help? I would be eternally grateful.”
Alice readily agreed, happy to aid such a friendly creature and hoping he could give her directions afterwards. She pulled out her needles. “A stole would be very nice,” she thought, “especially with the size of my needles.” Her knitting needles had quite failed to keep up with her alarming growing and shrinking. She cast on and began a simple lace design.
After some minutes she glanced down. “That's odd,” she thought. She'd intended to knit a simple lattice. “I must have missed a decrease a few rows back. Oh bother.” She carefully ripped out the offending rows and worked them again.
Several inches later, she examined her work again. It was nothing like the simple pattern she'd started with. The stole was decidedly going its own way, despite her intentions. She sighed again and kept working, hoping for the best.
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