Post by alice on May 8, 2012 0:26:03 GMT -5
Alice wandered through the park, carrying her favorite book, and trying to remember the section of history they had been working on in class. Why was it that she could remember lines from each chapter of Alice in Wonderland, but she couldn't remember what she had written down in her homework planner. It was her father's love for the story, every night before bed, that had helped the lines and characters become everyday thoughts for her.
She paused beside a row of rosebushes, admiring them, her fingers trailing over the soft petals. White..red..pink..and yellow. Her mind wandered for a moment, but was brought back by the sharp prick of a thorn as her fingers came to the stem of one of the roses. A red rose...how fitting..and rather ironic..
Alice shook the thoughts away, and tried to think of how she could keep the notes from class in her head. She realized that if she read them, every night, as the story they made up when put together, it might be possible to learn to remember the information as easily as the characters of the Wonderland world.
She paused beside a row of rosebushes, admiring them, her fingers trailing over the soft petals. White..red..pink..and yellow. Her mind wandered for a moment, but was brought back by the sharp prick of a thorn as her fingers came to the stem of one of the roses. A red rose...how fitting..and rather ironic..
Alice shook the thoughts away, and tried to think of how she could keep the notes from class in her head. She realized that if she read them, every night, as the story they made up when put together, it might be possible to learn to remember the information as easily as the characters of the Wonderland world.