I stood still in that place where they were, and it was dark. I was afraid to move. I heard voices and they seemed to be talking to me, but I could not be sure, so I smiled, just in case. I wondered what they looked like and what they felt inside and I tried talking to them about that. When I spoke to them about their dreams and thoughts they came close and spoke to me. Then it did not seem so alone there in that place.

Then the fencing match began, and I was afraid. I did not know the rules, and I could not see where my opponent was, with her sharp rapier, which so often found its mark. I darted about at quickly as I could, and I learned to see in the dark by guesswork, which threw some light upon what was happening. I turned away and hid out of sight and out of the way of the sharp rapier that could sting but never killed, that humiliated but never drew blood.
I stayed a long time in hiding, for the rapier was silent and deadly and ay in wait for me to emerge. If I did, there it would be once more with its deadly steel and the silent masked face behind it, and the tough vest that admitted no hurt.
And then another opponent whose name was Death took her away, leaving only the memories and the dreams I had made in my own silent space. I still found my way about by guesswork, and made my own torches to light the way, woven from my hair and spittle, until my mouth was dry and my hair was thin and my scalp was a weeping sore.