One little instant, on the couch. Just an image well-set. Then a summer, and a pleasantly surprising return to that picture. And then there you were again. The problem with dream girls, though, is that they inevitably present an unfulfilling reality. But every time I look at the picture, and it moves like no muggle frame does, I see more and more of me; me if I hadn't been the places I have or done the things I've done. Then movements and tendencies of other people too. Important people. But composed in such tangible and affable notes. Built with such aesthetic bricks. The reality you present seems like the perfect recipe of parts sun and storm. Seems. I can't wait to find out for sure.
Miss Lucy
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