I'm back from Pony Island, all sandy and sun-weary and fat on sea-scallops and ice cream. I'll have to tell you about the ponies tomorrow. Or another day. I haven't quite worked it out yet. All I know is that it wasn't PONY ISLAND, quite. Maybe you knew that it couldn't be? I am giving it a day or two, though, to see if there is some kind of magic that might creep up on me. It feels like sunburn.
you are very lovely.
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