“I *had* a girl, Missus Lemon,” proclaims the drunken Fisher, leaning against the bar counter. “And I let her go.” He takes another gulp of his golden beer and then looks down. “Yellow,” he explained. Natsu Lemon made a face and moved away. “No, no, no. *Cartoon* yellow.”
Note to self, he thought, watching her back from afar: Stop calling Lisa the Vegetarian by her true color ’round these parts, *orange* boy.
Natali Woodhull decided it was time to reveal herself.
Sunklands 