I asked AI to create a short story inspired by Alice in Wonderland, blending Alice’s curiosity about mathematics, geography, and all things knowledge. What you see here was generated in less than two second. Completely, completely surreal! I first read Alice in Wonderland at around six years of age in the grown-up edition, and it has greatly influenced my life and outlook. What I received just now surprised me, because I’m quite fond of the short story that follows and of the illustrations I requested, although I can well recognize the quirks of AI-generated “art”. I asked for illustrations in a Victorian style, loosely inspired by Arthur Rackham.

I’m torn about sharing this since I’ve always felt that my art and creativity must come from within, Still, I can’t deny how well this prompt came together. I suppose my artificial friend has learned to anticipate my tastes quite well. It’s unsettling, but somehow, I’m willing to share it all the same. For better or for worse, we’ve entered a brave new world, my friends—and I fear there’s no turning back now.

Here’s the story I received:

One afternoon, Alice found herself wandering through the woods near her home, lost in thought about numbers. She had been puzzling over the idea of infinity—how something could go on forever without ever stopping. “It’s quite like trying to count all the stars,” she said aloud, “but at least stars eventually run out. Numbers just keep going!”

As she spoke, Alice noticed a small door nestled in the roots of an ancient oak tree. It was no taller than a teapot, and beside it sat a curious brass key, glinting in the sunlight. Alice, never one to ignore such an invitation, took the key and turned it in the lock.

To her astonishment, the door opened not to a hollow trunk but to a vast corridor lined with shelves. Each shelf was stacked with books, maps, and globes that spun lazily on their own. A gentle ticking sound filled the air, as if the room itself were counting something important.

“Welcome to the Library of Forgotten Things,” said a soft voice. Alice turned to find a small owl perched on a lectern. “I’m the Librarian. You may call me Oliver.”

Alice curtsied politely. “But what is forgotten here?” she asked.

Oliver ruffled his feathers. “Oh, all sorts of things! The equations that slipped from mathematicians’ minds right as they were about to solve them, countries that fell off the edge of maps, and words that were never spoken aloud. The Library remembers them all.”

Alice’s eyes lit up. “I’d love to see a country that’s fallen off the map!”

The owl nodded and flapped toward a globe that was softly humming. “Ah, this one is quite rare. The Kingdom of Numberland. It drifted away when people forgot the joy of sums.”

Alice leaned in closer and saw tiny cities built like puzzle pieces, rivers shaped like curving fractions, and mountains that spiraled endlessly upwards like the Fibonacci sequence.

“What happens to places like this?” she asked.

“They wait,” Oliver said. “Until someone remembers them.”

Alice thought for a moment, then smiled. “I remember Numberland now. And I think I shall visit it often.”

As soon as she said this, the globe spun faster, and the faint outline of Numberland began to reappear faintly on a nearby map.

The owl chuckled softly. “It seems you have a talent for restoring forgotten things. Come back anytime, Alice. There’s always more to rediscover.”

With that, Alice stepped back through the little door, the brass key now warm in her hand. As she closed it behind her, she found herself back in the woods, the sun dipping below the trees.

Infinity, Alice thought with a smile, was not so very different from forgotten things. All it needed was someone to remember it.❣️