SOMEWHERE IN LONDON
L ewis Carroll had left the church, afraid his followers would lose faith in him seeing his weakness to the migraines.
Walking among the insane people who’d lost their minds, he should have been happy with his work.
But he wasn’t.
For two reasons.
The first one was his sudden migraines. Those horrible lightning bolts inside his skull, just like the old days back in Oxford in the 19th century, when he was still a priest and a scholar, long before he wrote the books.
He could remember being part of the Christ Church’s Choir, singing and singing for hours, and loving it. But then the migraines began. And he couldn’t take the sound of organs or choirs anymore.
He’d run like a madman across the Tom Quad, back to his studio on the roof next to the Tom Tower, kicking and screaming in pain until he fainted all alone on the floor.
One day he woke up from his episode, only to realize he couldn’t talk normally anymore. He’d begun to stutter.
And that was when his introverted life began.
Spending hours and hours alone, making up mathematical equations, writing poems, drawing rabbits. The rest was too surreal to remember now.
Still strolling among the mad people of London, he gripped his head as if it was a bomb about to explode. And although he had a plan to follow, he needed to fix his head.
Just like the old days. There was only one substance that could relieve him from the pain. A drug.
But unlike the drug he had someone cook for him for this plague in South America, this drug he needed, or rather cure for his migraine, was only available from the few Wonderlanders left.
He wasn’t sure if he should interrupt his plans by searching for the cure for his migraines.
Which brought him to think of the second reason…