I will miss my cinnamon Life and tea tomorrow

Dearest Millicent,

As ever, my visit with you this past quartznight (less than a fort, more than a mid?) was balm to the soul–the kind of balm that proves that it is important to blather for hours with those whom also blather, making the blather feel like a long deep stretch, or a dip in a very hot pool. Long wayward talks with no maps and lots of spirals are a luxury. Texting can’t get near it, though it does get near other things (avoiding the blather for one, as well as admitting that a lot of what we need to say to each other can be reduced to numbers and sillypants emoticons). Quickly, I wanted you to know some of the things I so very much enjoyed this visit: learning what the word prozzie means, eating ham and butter sandwiches, and the shooting of the guns. And everything else. Oh dear!  I have to go, my cat has taken to eating books!


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