purgatory

"I don't want to be here," Alice said peevishly, cocking her head to the side. "The world I came from is above me. It is dark here but still worse below. I have been falling for quite some time, and I'd really like to climb out."

The rabbit twitched his nose and wisely said, "If you should land, you would certainly be doomed. But you would grow accustomed to it in time, the strangeness, the cruelty, the fear, they would soon become old friends. Your fate would intertwine with theirs. You would have your own tree, with a bowed branch, to rest your head upon. You would rename the constellations, and learn to defy gravity. You would swim for hours without drowning. Your companions, no longer unsavory, would console you."

Alice brightened up a bit at this prospect. "I could swim for hours without drowning?"

"You could, and you would. Your skin would bit by bit wear away, and a new skin would take its place, and then you would truly belong."

Alice began to weep softly. "I like my skin, Rabbit. How do I stop falling? I want to go home."

Rabbit sighed, glancing at his watch. "I suppose you'll have to climb."