Carol Borzykowski lives in a sleepy river town built on a sandbar between the Mississippi and glacial bluffs. She is a soon-to-be graduating (non-traditional) English major. Carol works at the public library and belongs to several writing workshops. She has had two stories published in "Satori", the Winona State Literary Magazine, and a poem published in "Deep Breath", a web site. She has a story in the upcoming March issue of "Moondance" a e-zine. Carol is married, has two children and is the proud caretaker of two big-butted Manx cats.
"Wonderland" is about happens when you "grow" up. Just ask Alice.
Wonderland Black, cold, narrow as a grave I didn't see the hole-- didn't look before I stepped down. Long,long I fell past shards empty as plastic champagne glasses, past deflated balloons pink and yellow, past a magician's empty black hat dead rabbit, curiouser and curiouser. Past the touch of your lips brushing my neck a silver moth in flames, onto barren lunar landscape I stopped. And Alice, it's true what they say it's not the fall that kills you.