Breakfast With a Rabbit

Written for a short story competition ran by a local library. The entry had to amount to two sides of a4, and had to be inspired by Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and the theme of 'falling down a well'.
This piece won first prize.
Cover inspired by 'The Trouble with Wenlocks' by Joel Stewart.


1. Part 1

The bottom of the well was dark; not as dark as one would expect, yet still too dark to see.

Rutherford Henlé Wilkins was surprised to find that he was not actually hurt- he had landed rather suddenly on his right ankle, but had not, or so it seemed, broken it.

The smell was musty- dank, even although the cold, hard stone wall of the well proved to be as dry as a beach towel left out to lightly bake on the sand of an idyllic beach in Wales on a hot summer’s day.

Rutherford Wilkins stood up, and looked around. There was little beside bricks to look at and there were no sounds to hear that Rutherford was able to pick out.

He wondered when someone would come and help him.

As he would on most mornings, he had woken up, and had started on the long trawl down his step father’s garden to the gate at the end where he would soon locate and bring back the empty green wheelie bin that had been left there by the bin men passing by earlier that morning. On his way to the gate, he had stumbled in the grass and fallen down a hole that he had no recollection of being there before.

He was still in his pyjamas, now more than a little dirty, and, looking at his golden embellished watch that his Scottish uncle had given him for his most recent birthday.

He had barely woken up twenty minutes beforehand.

Rutherford Henlé Wilkins slumped down inside the well and let his head rest for a moment on the cold, hard stone wall.

Sniffing slightly, he relaxed, letting his shoulders slump backwards.

He yelped, leaping forwards in surprise as the brick shifted beneath his weight. Other bricks shifted beneath him, until he was sitting at the very top of a chute leading downwards into the earth.

Quite slowly, he felt himself begin to slip backwards. Scrabbling hopelessly away, he was soon sucked down the hole like a mouse into a very large hoover.

The world became warmer around him, and in a flash of bright, but not blinding light, Rutherford Henlé Wilkins arrived at a dinner table.

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