Dear You,
aka reader unknown,
It's me again. Thanks for coming back.
Winter clouds moved aside.
Climate estival, everything evaporates. Even my words.
Back to the stoves !
And I observe within, the writer-in-progress:
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... enough to discover the bottomless well of the writer.
Never did he actually start.
One could always dig deeper.
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Let me lay some ladders on you way.
A guided tour of sorts.
between centenarians and saplings
and a few manufactured headlines, since none but the perennials make the best news:
