[Another entry in my series of Butchery, in which one of my novel’s principal characters displays his unique linguistic talent]
“Yeah, I saw it too.” Rex folded his body forward, reaching down for his epee. “Looked like flying saucers. It was cool.” The tall teen walked to the center of the empty cafeteria floor, where OK stood waiting for their bout.
“Yeah.” Rune sighed in recognition of Butch’s self-assured tone. “It’s an optical delusion.”
“Illusion.” Taking off her fencing jacket, Annie shook her head, brown pony-tail waving behind. “It’s called an optional illusion.”
“Nuh-uh.” Butch stepped defiantly towards Annie, and Rune knew from experience the futility of trying to stop his friend at these moments. “It’s something you think is there, but it’s not there, which means it’s a delusion.”
“Illusion.” Asking Annie to withdraw from these arguments was equally fruitless. “An illusion is something that isn’t there. Back of left hand slaps right palm — “Optical — ” SLAP — “illusion!”
The tow-headed son of the Bark Bay First Baptist Church’s minister squinted, his round face pained with consternation. “Sometimes, Annie, you make me wonder about you.”