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Seer of ghosts & weaver of stories

(You are very much not forgotten)

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I am sick, sick, sick...
All thorns & no grace
...and apparently there is even a term for it.

Moving from Worcester to Dorchester tomorrow; hoping I'll feel less horrid. At the moment, drugged and not very with it, so if I email you in this state: oops. Typos and other related hilarities may occur.

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Oh good lord, sick and moving?

May you be able to rest soon and be warm, hot tea with lemon and honey.

A hug and wish I could wrap you in a blanket on my lap--doesn't matter that it's a virtual lap, I don't have a real one either (fat) but I wish I could.

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