“Avante Garde!” She cried out as she took her stance. I stared at her, my epee lowered.
“What?” I said incredulously.
She lowered her epee also, stood up straight and said, “Avante Garde?”
I shook my head. “Avante Garde? Really? That’s what you just said?’
“Yes, is it wrong?”
“Did you mean to say ‘En Garde’?” I let the tip of my blade touch the floor.
“Is that what they say?”
I smirked through my mask. “Yes, it’s en garde. That’s French for, on your guard.”
“So, what is avante garde? I know I have heard people say that before.” Her voice got meek as she spoke.
“Avante garde is more about doing something that other people haven’t quite caught onto.”
“Oh, so, like starting something new?”
“Exactly.” I replied, satisfied that she finally understood. “So, shall we continue with the lesson?”
She nodded, raised her blade back up, took her stance and said in a clear, crisp tone…
“Avante Garde!”
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