Leslie, my dearest friend since 7th grade, and Caleb came into town for the Wilco show. I made them marginal whiskey-lemonades and exceptional guacamole and we all got pink-shouldered sitting on the back porch, the dull roar of Athens, Ohio on the first near-hot day of the year like the lapping of the tide. But with more woo!s.
I found out that Leslie is scurrying off to Asia for a year, most likely because she does not value my company and wants to be fourteen time zones away from me.
Seriously though, there's absolutely no way I will be able to afford a plane ticket to Korea in the next year to visit her. Secret benefactors of the world? Now is the time to contact me in an old-timey, mysterious way. I'm thinking something sealed with red wax or maybe a map (on parchment paper, obviously) affixed to my front door with a letter opener. Preferably the map leads to a wad of cash in an old patina-ed music box. But those are just suggestions. You're the secret benefactor here, I'm not gonna tell you how to do your job.
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