El Diablo. Pious men glide across the hollow floors. Brick-bracks of the padded sandals echo through the high ceilings. They pause momentarily, facing a painting. A painting of a saint, they are not quite sure who, it must be important though, riding a donkey with a sword in one hand and a cross in another. He is a saint, even though he is obviously a killer, because of the yellow arch around his head.
But the heat of the walls dissipate through their skin. Sticky, sweaty, their robes billow down their pale bodies. One man, irrelevant but interesting, paused for a moment in front of the painting just to fix a creased corner. They all walked away to mass.
The sword of the man in the painting was dull, although one could surmise it was shiny once. Shiny and bloody, the scarlet oozing from its edge. The man in the painting once killed and his blade swung around like a free-flailing basket. It chopped, it diced, it minced, it kitchened the whole field, that of course, having people in substitute for food. But the eating was real though, it’s always fun.
The capacity to move forward, in a 2d space but a flowing time, grounded by the markings of the artist, definite strokes across the background, the foreground popping out. Traces of the outlines are forever there, in indelible ink. The killer becomes a saint. The saint becomes immortal. The immortal dies.
THIS IS THE TAROT CHALLENGE, a 78-day writing challenge where everyday I pick out a random card from my tarot deck and write something about, against, inspired by, based on the card by the day’s end. The works can range from poetry to fiction to drama. When the card is from the major arcana, the title of the work should be the card name. When the card is from the minor arcana, the title can be different but the card drawn should be revealed at the end.