Alice pushed the oversized top hat back on Hatter's head so she could see his face. His enormous blue eyes gazed back, and we all leaned forward a bit. Alice was like the sun, and those of us in Wonderland were drawn to her warmth. It was sometimes easy to forget that the sun can burn.
"I haven't given the matter that much thought," Alice began, curling a blonde strand around her finger. "It's a weighty matter, a tombstone. I would say that the inscription should be a reflection of the personality of the deceased person, but I know that all of you will disagree."
"Of course we'll disagree!" The Queen of Hearts shoved her way among the rest of us, sloshing the red wine in her glass all over the White Rabbit. "Off with 'er head!"
"No, my dear Queen, you mustn't off with anyone's heads these days," The White Rabbit delicately dabbed at his now stained fur. Rabbit was so much more laid back since he started smoking the same stuff as the Caterpillar. "Remember our last group therapy session?"
The Queen had the grace to look a bit confused, and allowed a Knave to take her arm and lead her away. All the remaining heads, still attached, turned back to Alice.
"I suppose that I would like something along the lines of "I had a lover's quarrel with the world"," Alice's eyes became faraway, and we all fervently wished that we could join her.
"But Alice," Hatter spluttered. "Some guy named Frost already took that one!"
Collectively, we held our breath. The Cheshire Cat completely disappeared. Alice frowned a moment, thinking as hard as she could. When she smiled, we all exhaled with relief.
"Why then, I guess that my tombstone should say, 'She had a lover's quarrel with Wonderland.'" Satisfied with herself, Alice poured another round of scotch, then passed the bottle. She raised her glass.
"To friends!" We all raised our glasses and then drank. Alice slammed her glass to the table, laughed, and pointed at poor Hatter.
"Off with 'is head!" She shouted with glee. Struck mute with our fear, we watched them drag poor Hatter, now hatless, to the block.
I would have written of me on my stone: I had a lover’s quarrel with the world.~Robert Frost