Dear Roxanne,
Half of my herd has strayed! Oh well, now I have more time to shop,and eat buttercup. Mostly I herd blonde horses, the ones with thick lashes and fat socks. The wind smells like celery and clean hairs, in my small farm at the bottom of a steep road. Today deer flocked at my window when I woke up, 20 of them all wearing velvet cloaks except for the tallest buck who was wearing a cloak with a pointed hood balanced on his antlers ect ect... What have my interests become now that I am here with the other herdsfolk? We have to have something to talk about in our clubhouses and schools. Everyday I have to follow ordinary patterns in order to keep my dark cat-orchard safe and protected from a million sources of poachary and thieves. Roxanne, my heart seriously feels like a dirty alley which is usually deserted. Sometimes I find fresh stuff in there like corn-diamonds, lizards, or smooth rocks. Once my love sang me harmonies from inside the trash cans. Another time we found one ripe plum waiting to befriended, and no trees were in sight. Those were some goodtimes I think.
anyways, I have job offers. yesterday I had to buy a coconut (brown hair brown eyes, a beauty). Now I have to crack it open and make some beer and potions for saint pattys day and the post lunar eclipse drinking days. they are all important ceremonies to remember our granparents by, and maybe as far back as our caveman parents. How can I do it? Im bored of myself, and I still have to braid the manes of thirteen stallions and their fat pup child and calm the other horses before I can laugh or sleep. They do have nice horse bodies though. Several ringmasters approached me at the corp. biz. conference last week, saying the bodys of my product were stacked like a book. I hope I make some sales this week. When can you come visit me?
love, your sister