David L. Farr


lies high atop the mountain. Beyond the thick, forested sea of pine. Beyond the bulging

foothills. Beyond the shallow, slanted granite ridges. Beyond the misty veil of low

hanging clouds. Nestled deep within the centre of the snow-capped peaks.


Guardian of the sacred lakes, of the hidden doorways within cascading falls. Created

with the force of the equine but the grace of Ichthyes, the Hippocampus safeguards

its faculties.


To journey—beyond the sea of pine, beyond the foothills, beyond the ridges of granite

and cloud to find the centre of the snow-capped peaks—is the price of admission.

A price set not by the Hippocampus, but by the gods.


It is a challenge, a quest, a want, a need, an urge, a goal to seek out

the Hippocampus. To seek out the hidden pathways of gravity, of falling snow, of

cascading falls.


It is then that it speaks, not through the biology of vibrations and breath, but as a voice

within your mind. ‘Have faith and leap.’ It answers no query, only repeats, ‘Have faith

and leap.’


So you stand upon the precipice of gravity, of falling snow, of cascading falls.

You stand with the snow-capped peaks, above the clouds, the ridges, the foothills, and

the pines.


You jump.




A knight dressed in armour atop their valiant steed

charges onwards. A strange contrast to history—

the rider in leathers, padded with shock-absorbent kevlar

the steed clad in moulded steel grafted onto metallic bones.


A single steed with the power of fifty

roaring louder on two legs than it could on four.

They are reshaped, useless joints cast aside

replaced with halos of rubber.


Reins are exchanged for the turn of a throttle

the knight no longer wields a lance—

instead they battle with gravitational torque

their foe: fake force.


This breed of beast not modelled

for the loss of friction that dirt roads hold.

Instead they gallop along highways of bitumen

racing towards their goal.


This knight and their steed, a unity

of trust and skill—

heed the call of their wanderlust

a quest: adventure.

David Farr is a third-year creative writing student, stay-at-home dad, and motorcycle enthusiast. He served seven years in the Royal Australian Navy and now regularly DM’s games of Dungeons and Dragons. His favourite class is a Paladin.

Steph Blinco is a third year Bachelor of Fine Arts student. A local Brisbane emerging artist, her practice makes statements about everyday life through collaged imagery. Intertwining psychedelic patterns to create collisions of colour and era, Steph draws influences from autobiographical contexts, ranging from her childhood to her experiences now as a young adult. You can find her on Instagram @stephblincoart.