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Chicanery

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I felt as if I had displaced the last bobbin of my soul, like dominos falling on a stacked deck of cards, each piece tumbling into a void like a key without a hole. The threads of my mind were fraying like shards in a Rorschach test as the Mad Hatter looked at his watch and grinned, twisted and wide, as the Cheshire Cat gave me “the bird”, feeling as if I was on insanity row, up the creek without a paddle and no lobotomy to crow. Now knowing how Poe felt when the Raven was cawing, “chicanery.”

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