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Dear Py,

I know you’re fucking reading this, man.   Since our last encounter and final deal, I’m sure you’ve been keeping your Jonathon Watch vigil with due diligence.

And truly, dude – it’s sweet of you.   Awww.   But fucking relax, all right? – it’s all good here since my ‘relocation’, yeah?  

School is suitably amusing, and despite playing at being the bad boy a bit (and I’m gonna claim with my undying breath that’s your influence), I’m keeping a relatively low profile.   Sure, fate has been throwing Brix at me, but he’s easily handled.   And plus, there’s Harmony to even up the fucking cacophony of tales told by idiots.   I reckon even you’d like her a bit.   Plus she’s anaemic, so not good eating, which is useful…

What else?   No word from Kane, or Jenna, or anything like that.   Old ties are officially broken.   And no sight nor sound to sustain your dumb-ass theory, bro – Amelia is fucking dead and gone.   No question.

Okay, so I did wish myself happy blog day recently, and this website been getting kinda popular lately, sure – but you of all people know what a bloody unreliable narrator I can be, and how neatly I avoid saying anything – well – too ‘incriminating’ about us.   Come on: you’ve gotta admit I’m good at that shit.

Um… I’ve been eating well.   Oh – though there was that week of ‘food poisoning’ (yeah, yeah – I know.   I should watch what I eat…)   My new apartment is fine – fire escape is awesome (you should get one, man)   So – yeah.   All going well.

Still kinda pissy with you about our last run-in (fucking high-handed, dude), but you like to cultivate that effect generally anyway, don’t you, you bastard?!   Point is, next time you breeze in to visit, let’s go share a few – drinks – and paint the town red, and let bygones be bygones.   Eternity is too bloody long to hold grudges, right?   They just get boring.   So – yeah.   Anyway.

Till death don’t us part,



P.S. The Cat says it misses you, and sends its love.




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