Dear Emby,
If getting ready is going to break your heart, where can we go? Get ready. He's the one. He'll keep your heart ready. A million years have gone by and you haven't filled those buckets yet. Everybody's waiting to see what is going to go in there, everybody has got their ticket, when will you start? Sometimes just imagining you bending over, moving your arms puts a smile on my face. How I miss your mobility. Do you still play the piano?
I received your imaginary card. Good job! I loved the part where you threw cyanide on Tolly's flowers. It was so romantic! I am going to teach my students to do that next week in History class. I don't have a lot of free time on my hands, but a few drops won't hurt. I am trying my best, you know. Last week, I witnessed an absurdity. Lots of blood. But it wasn't red. It was a greenish/yellowish mucus. Oh wait, was it mucus?
I will leave you to your piano thinning. I am still trying to be myself.
Goodbye.
