Paddy Smyth had picked me up in an old '70s boat of a black car. I tried updating him on my now identifying as nonbinary, but at my mentioning ‘they/them’ pronouns he shushed me, saying we didn’t have time for that. He immediately went into how he’d picked me up to ask the favor of me that I fight a Modern Arnis guro for him (Paddy) to win back his girlfriend. Though I felt nervous as shit about it, I told him to swing by the house I grew up in so I could pick up my rattan kali sticks. It struck me upon returning home and leaving immediately how much it reminded me of my fight in high school against Al Cahill, where the older kids told me to set foot in my house after school, otherwise I could still be suspended even for taking part in a fight off school grounds. Noting how unsure I was at my ability to best a guro of Arnis, especially for my ambulatory disability, Paddy told me not to worry, that he was bringing me to someone who could teach me specific sinawali combinations by which to win against my opponent. We arrived at The Dedham Mall, which had the appearance of having survived a societal collapse to now thrive as a solarpunk haven. A woman appearing to be nothing short of a glowingly ethereal eight-foot elf came to meet me at the Bradlees' entrance, as Paddy ducked back outside to check and scroll his phone.

[*edited to add hashtags: #writing #writingcommunity ]