How clever you are for remembering Tolstoy, Nabokov, and Carroll. Your story is better for remembering them, though it isn’t really much of a story. How interesting that you have eschewed entertainment or lasting images in favour of hinting (pathetically) at an essay you were too lazy to write. I urge you to write that essay, relate it to your experiences, relate it to a fictional story you made up in your head. Whatever you do, you must learn that fictions are not simple map-making, detailing all of the ways you are clever that you can (comfortably and uncomfortably) fit. The image must exist. It must be understood. A certain piece of it must be kept ambiguous, not for the sake of ambiguity or cleverness, but to keep the mind healthy and actively searching for god.
More on god tomorrow, if you’re interested.