The year 2021 a.D. takes place slowly but decidedly on planet Earth, Milky Way. In the west of the world map, if you asked the chinese; close to the GreenWich meridian, if you asked the french; or in a place less relevant, if you asked the american, is located a place called Barcelona, where there’s that indecent heat that sticks your clothes to your body and suffocates you at night. There’s an apartment specially sultry for its littleness and bad distribution which rent is paid by Hope Perkins, which just slipped through the door and is standing at the entrance, like she’s pondering each and every decision that she has taken throughout her tiny and human life. 

And, in some way, that’s what she’s doing. She tightens her grip on her keys all her left hand’s fingers allow her and sighs observing outside the only window of the apartment, the one where you can see the opposite building and a street with hot asphalt. The giant shirt she's fetched from the hospital smells like sweat.

Standing in the doorway, she reflects how quickly her dream of being the best musician on Earth has vanished. Never mind that. What she needs to do is to deal with those two month rent payments, claim her deposit back and travel some time to a distant place so she can clear her mind. She may try it again, far from here. 

While she decides what she’s going to do now, she carefully watches the sunset through the glass. It’s orange and dark violet, very different to the ones of the London cloaked sky. And in the precise instant in which the biting light slips through the apartment's window, blinding her momentarily and causing a sudden and lacerating headache, a wind gust swamps the apartment even though the window is closed. It's a wind gust that raises the sheet music from the table, decks her oboe case and makes the lawn chair in front of the TV tremble. Everything is electrified. The ground trembles. When she opens her eyes, she discovers that her living room has been tainted in blue due to a flashing vortex that has appeared in the ceiling of the apartment. It resembles a troubled sea full of lighting and black clouds. And in the middle of that electric jumble, something arises and falls with the force that only a body travelling to the human velocity of 29035,5 G can fall (of course, Hope Perkins doesn’t know this but, from the time it shows up from the portal until it lands, the body has decelerated to a survivable velocity). 

Hope Perkins falls to the ground and hugs herself close to the door, contemplating the scene that’s unleashing in her home. The frail little wood table of the living room breaks in two with a crack and, with a similar sound to the surge of a storm, the vortex collapses in on itself and disappears. In its place, a burn-like stain appears in the ceiling. Well, if she wanted to claim her deposit back, she surely can’t now.

A groan escapes from the thing that fell out of the portal, and Hope Perkins lowers her head till she finds a girl her age, maybe a little bit younger, in the middle of the broken table. She wears a yellow tweed suit with arms and legs that seems a tad short, a pair of brown quartered leather boots, and has a hair that’s almost as yellow as the suit, fluffy and frizzy, replete with splinters and dust. She professes a harsher groan, like a howl, and grabs her left arm like it’s being cut off.

“Ouch!”

Hope Perkins grips the door behind her back, feeling tension in her left hand, and stays silent with watery eyes. What are you supposed to say when someone just appeared from your ceiling? What’s the courtesy protocol?

“Ah. Ah… ah, ah, ah” moans in pain the girl of the broken table, who sits up and grabs her arm till she dares to look at it. “Oh, it’s not that bad. Bloody hell, the security guards in that petrol station…! One cannot exchange a little packet of nuclear paste without being shot at nowadays. How barbaric!”

“Who are you?” Hope Perkins asks with the palms of her hands still glued to the wooden door.

The stranger suddenly raises her head as if she hadn’t taken note of Hope Perkins' existence till now, or as if she hadn’t even been expecting any existence surrounding her. She has bulging black eyes, like the ones of a salamander. Slowly, she lets the arm that was squeezing the wound fall, and exposes a burn in her shoulder which has a big diagonal incision in its center.

“Eurrrr… Depends who’s asking” she's looking at the living room, now shattered. “Where am I?”

“Y-you’re in my ap-partment” 

“Apartment? What apartment? Elaborate.”

“In… In Barcelona?” Hope Perkins tries, sticking her back to the door until it’s completely straight and searching the knob with trembling hands.

“Huh. Barcelona, Barcelona…” the girl in the table hums, standing up from the ground, and some sheet music peels off her legs. “Crilles 6FD1?”

“What?” Hope asks freezing.

“Bugger. Let’s see, what planet are we on?”

With caution, Hope Perkins opens her mouth and says with a broken voice:

“Earth?”

“Are you asking me? C'mon, don’t look at me like that. That’s awkward” whispers the stranger, and takes a stroll so she can see the apartment. “It’s not bad at all. You should’ve seen the first one I lived in. Oh, I’m Blodyn”

“Blondy?” Hope Perkins looks at the hand the stranger is holding out while her head is spinning. 

“Do I look like a Blondy?” blurts out, backing off, though she seems to remember her hair colour and winds down, straightening her suit with a torn shoulder pad. “Blodyn Blood. Blo-DYN. Sorry about the living room. Oi, could you bring me something so I can treat this?”

What an odd name... must be made-up, Hope Perkins would think at this moment, if she wasn’t busy shaking and asking herself what type of delayed impact drugs must have provided her by mistake at the hospital. 

“Yes, of course. Don’t worry about it” Hope tells her because, if she’s going to live a really weird fantasy where a girl enters her house via magic, in for a penny, in for a pound. 

“Say, thanks a lot”

Hope Perkins sits up very slowly and stares at Blondy's… Blodyn Blood’s wound, from which it's been sprouting blood that’s staining her cadmium yellow tweed suit. She starts to stagger to the bathroom getting a hold of the walls, since she doesn’t trust herself to walk right now. Hope moves her dreadlocks so she can gaze at her new guest and says:

“I’ve bandages, and I’ve got…”

By the time Hope Perkins turns around, Blodyn Blood has fainted and fallen to the floor of the living room.