Previously on Blade Walker: Blade Walker and Alícia Arrepio were eating mangoes by a river when a sinkhole opened nearby and a factory disappeared into it.

“When I’m waiting for the bus
at the railway station,
I often wonder what’s hiding
in the ground beneath my feet.

“When I’m walking the dog
with my yo-yo as well.

“Most of the time, actually.”

Alícia nodded.
“You’re human, aren’t you?”

How did she know?

“I was raised in a sanctuary.
A year ago, they released me
into the wild. They’re hoping
I’ll procreate.”

“Don’t look at me.”

She pierced a piece of mango
with a plastic fork.

“At least you speak Common Galactic.
And I’ve noticed you’re taking notes
of our conversation.”

“It’s advice for would-be writers.”

Be clear, avoid frivolous
incomprehensibility;
do not confuse diegesis
with its antithesis,
and vice versa.

“That’s all I have so far.”

There was a tearing sound,
as if someone off-stage
were ripping a piece of canvas,
and what had been a sinkhole
grew longer than a street
of kitchens.

The Light Cavalry Overture
began to play.

“Is that diegetic?” I asked.

Alícia pointed along the shore.
“There’s an orchestra amongst the trees.”

“Are there any horses with them?”

She turned to me with narrowed eyes
and a stern J’accuse expression.

I recalled my Klingon teacher
back at the sanctuary.
At least his beam weapons
were only set to irritate.

“Horses are irrelevant.
We were supposed
to move the plot along,
but all you’ve done is distract me.”

“There’s a plot?”

“Possibly. It should be
covered in your writing tips.”

I made a note.
“Was I … the good kind of distraction?”

“There is no good kind.”

background

Overture to Franz von Suppé’s operetta Light Cavalry,1866.

artwork

Irrelevant horses: striking original photograph from @_scosim_ (instagram), evolved with the visual evo engine, my software that seeks unimagined realms, and the Visual Revelator, that uncovers what is hidden in the shadows and the light.