Sabdieye

off went he, Alfonso Pintura, down the road to Mount Cezarino with a bandaloon on his back. The road to Mount Cezarino was long and dull, 1

hence paved with butterknives.2

The only person Alfonso met on this road was a deedo tribesman who wore a giant Choomba root on his head and sang hymns. 3

"Himpu latimbeh, shanu plivonte!4

Plush deal ensalme, fantue oimaner!"5

It was a beautiful language.6

Alfonso was almost positive it wasn't french. 7

Alfonso himself was wrapped up in scuba gear. He had the suit, the mask, snorkel, just tied around himself. Back at home, he had a wife and a child, seven year old male, that had only ever said one phrase- "Alfonso, carve my name in it." 8

Things in Alfonso's mind ciggered out; the red spark that once made the steam in him puff was now smothered by the last shred of sanity. The branch he held teetered on the cliff just as his vision did at times. Watching Alfonso myself at times it seemed he was just in another space altogether. Once I saw him sit down in a place where there was no chair. He did not topple over- he remained in the position of sitting without a chair, straining his muscles. He hardly seemed to mind, or notice. 9

<Alfonsosintricateworkings>10

I blazed by the road in a Chevy walking shoe. Chewing spittachers, as I called them, lined the streets with white dots that soon turn black and melt into the New York Sidewalk. "I'm not crazy" I whisper to myself. Wait, I actually whispered it to myself? Didn't I only tell you I was whispering to myself? Wait, who are you?! Go away! I know you're still there. I wouldn't just narrate my life, would I? You're there. I know it because I talk to you!11

</alfonsosintricateworkings>12

When I came back that one day, he was rolling on the floor. "Get out of my head, get out of my head," he sounded like one of those madmen you sometimes research. 13

Across the frozen desert sands, free from all time, Alfonso had to go. I should know; I followed him. Love's teather is short and thick. 14

"Hello." Alfonso tipped his hat at a cactus. "My name is Hortance." He then proceeded to listen to the cactus' reply.15

"Mmhmm."16

"Right.17

Alfonso laughed "Go on."18

"He raped Jesus! That's him!"19

Alfonso pointed to the horizon, then ran. "Quick," he said. "Get behind a bush before Hortance sees you!"20

"Hortance is a cactus."21

"Cactus, cacti, cactilla. All the same to an old pair of bones."22

"Cactuses- cacti... They can't move."23

He gave me a look of incedulity. "What?"24

"Yeah. They can't talk, either."25

His left eyebrow continued to raise, until all of a sudden he snapped back to attention. "Oh, of course. I should have known." He shot me a hurt look.26

"Should have known where the cups were, at least."27