You’re gonna be taking your balls home in your pocket.’ Her slashing blade flashed repeatedly. Then she felt a surge of exaltation as she felt her...blade strike home. Wellington looked at his forearm where the tip of Val’s blade had nicked him. Blood flowed from the cut, although it did not appear to be overly deep. The jester stared for a moment, then lifted his head to look at Val. ‘Ah, m’lady,’ said Wellington, his tone no longer as jovial. ‘That was the unkindest cut of all.’ Val shuffled. I sat down on the narrow strip of grass that grew alongside the house, sheltered somewhat from the rain, but not minding it either. We'd enjoyed a long hot summer and this was the first visitor we'd had in over a month, probably two, since all I had to keep track of time was my cycle and the moon's.A thin man stepped out of the truck, old and stiff and red as a sunset. A real Native American, dressed in Levi's and a button down western shirt of blue and yellow. He had a wide brimmed hat, dust. More

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