Dear Penpal, You are too delightful to be human: you must be a sort of seed-pod-collecting elf-boy who walks through meadows wearing ivy-leaf crowns and writing some of the most amazing poetry that I have ever read. Why must you live thousands of miles away? I want to have picnics with you that consist of candied violets and story exchanges and making hats from birch bark and cicada shells.
Post Scriptum: Alissa Barvin, a wonderful young lady with the intelligence of a old wise man and the imagination of a 3-year-old child.
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