Not an Alice

Abstract

I file into the theater with the rest of them as my director gestures toward labeled stacks of cold reads that sit untouched on a table beside her. The boys, far too confident and far too loud, file into each other behind the wide array of scripts that are available to them. This line of prospective Hatters and Hares and Cheshires and Caterpillars seems to grow increasingly fast as more boys file into the auditorium.