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blankly at the screen, half asleep, half mumbling to herself.


For hours she would click, her mouse tumbling through page after page, down a deep dark hole of objects, past pocket watches and sundials, dusty books and their dusty shelves.


        “I wonder what it would be to go through the screen, I              wonder if the screen were a soft as mousse and one                  could just fall through,” said Alice.

Alice leaned closer to the screen pushing her nose to the glass, and as if the glass were mousse she fell through it. She somersaulted through, into a deep and dark hole.  

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