The Tightrope Walker

A tightrope.

A city in the sky.

A man with a gun.

A chessboard.

A strange display of unrelated and unusual elements.

When I first came to this town, I was a simple tightrope walker. I was trying to make a living with my lover, another walker. She and I met in a nearby town and decided to try the tightrope gig — she said it’s really famous around here.

Though I was hesitant about this change of pace, I was also excited. Being in my early 20’s, I was struggling a lot to find some money — and I was quite good at the ropes, albeit fraught with anxiety every time it was over.

When I first arrived at the famous “City of the Violet Sky”, my curiosity was piqued by the lack of residents or local shops. I scanned for hundreds of meters and saw just a dozen people, most of whom were older, selling wares and food and herbs. I could not help but notice that no one smiled.

It was an interesting sight, one I wouldn’t easily forget. My Love urged me to buy some good luck charms, and, being bound to my Heart, I could never deny her anything. We got some new wires to walk on as well, something we could innovate into a tightrope, something we bond over.

Tightropes are widely accessible throughout the city, with the bulk of transport being done by skilled couriers, all of whom have their paycheck on the line. I too was a known and sought out tightrope courier.

A mysterious pizza-maker offered us some freshly made pizza. We smiled and said no, thank you, but he was very insistent. We did not buy the pizza at that time. It seemed he had special deals for tightrope couriers, since they were quite sought out by the Sky City Council. I did not trust him.

We walked throughout the city, with particular tightrope couriers catching my eyes — they were competing for rank and respect within the city. I was on a leisurely trip, and despite my irrevocable status in the world of tightropers, I did not wish to attach myself to the world of competition.

I thought it best to be naturally good at what I do, that is how I am — my Love always reminded me to be happy with what I do, not just good at it.

Further down, there was a small park filled with gamblers and games — dominos, dice, backgammon, and my favorite game, chess. My Love was afraid that I would get ensconced into losing some money gambling again… I didn’t entirely blame her, since I ultimately get anxious and lose foolishly. But I felt confident this time. I have a tendency to fixate on the center.

I sat down and placed a $50 bet on the table. I offered a 5 minute game, no added time, touch move. The gambler agreed, eyeing me for the unusually well-kept foreigner I seemed to be. He must’ve felt already that I could play, and offered me the black pieces. I accepted, hoping to coax him into one of my many prepared lines. The first game was short and sweet, and he resigned in 26 moves. In the second game, he proposed a $100 bet, which I accepted. This time I played white, and achieved a very comfortable game in 25 or so moves. He was uncomfortably jittery in his chair, knowing he was out of his league and not putting up a good show for his friends.

However, as I was about to win a piece of his by force, the pizza man from before came behind me and firmly held a large rifle to the back of my head. He claimed that if I didn’t return the gambler his lost money, then I’d be left without a head. Thankfully, my Love is a covert performer of miracles, and, just as he was about to pull the trigger, placed her hand over his neck and froze him in place. She did this by applying pressure to his nerves.

So, it was discovered that the pizza man from before knew who I was, and endeavored to kill me sooner by feeding me with poisoned pizza — I’m quite grateful to say that my stay in this city will be temporary. However, following this nonviolent paralysis, the startled gamblers also drew their guns. I was hunted from the moment I came here. I was desired from the start, my face and identity available to everyone on a silver platter.

But why am I a target?

Let’s just say I know some secrets which are worth more than my life.

My Love warned me, in all her endless compassion, not to risk compromising my public identity with the passions I have. I’m an agent of the Higher State, an organization that seeks out evil in any city I could find.

But I didn’t listen to her, since I’m just a very idealistic agent who loves what he loves. A tightrope walker and chess player I am, a great courier I must be, but when I became a rebel, things got more difficult. No one likes a skilled competitor, especially one who doesn’t treat his world as competition.

I know there’s going to be police here. I might as well do what I do best.

I tossed a smoke grenade and vanished into nothingness with my Love.

I didn’t expect to bump into a crime syndicate while I was tightroping, but I’m sure it won’t hurt my record. I’m still in trouble from the previous city!