update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2022-10-30 23:45:05 -07:00
parent 57112425f3
commit d5da632c19
1 changed files with 5 additions and 5 deletions

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@ -20,13 +20,13 @@ Marsh, Vos's partner, broke the tension by singing a song while Douglas played a
Debarre has promised us firework. He only really needs one to impress, so we're all looking forward to it.
(talking about memories)
Mostly, though, we've just been doing that sort of talking about the past where one of us will name the subject of a memory as though reading off the label on a file folder, and we will all smile and sigh, or groan and laugh, or roll our eyes. It was one of those discussions that didn't need a whole lot of words, since it was all just a flow of shared memories passing back and forth.
When we all got to talking about memories, Ioan suggested that we share more with the clade than just the big events and difficult emotions. It's a good day, and we should be able to share our everyday weal as well as our occasional woe.
Partway through, Ioan suggested that we share more with the clade than just the big events and difficult emotions. More stuff like this. It's a good day, today! Not special, just good. We should be able to share our everyday weal as well as our occasional woe.
And, after all that the last decade has held for us, we really have wound up in a comfortable sort of happiness. It's not perfect. We still run into crossed boundaries and areas of friction, we have our bad days and misunderstandings. There aren't any aliens, though, and no one's life is at risk if they enter a public sim. Not for the time being, at least. It's nice to collect these quotidian happinesses, too, to enjoy them while they last.
It's getting dark now, and firework is coming, so we should probably set this self-indulgent exercise aside for the time being. We're going to write our own segments when we get home to attach to the end of this letter, but for now, we're going to get another drink --- this time of our choosing --- and enjoy the rest of the night with friends.
It's getting dark now, and the singular firework is coming, so we should probably set this self-indulgent exercise aside for the time being. We're going to write our own segments when we get home to attach to the end of this letter, but for now, we're going to get another drink --- this time of our choosing --- and enjoy the rest of the night with friends.
We hope that you all have the chance to enjoy your everyday happinesses, that you can have picnics that get out of hand, and that you can surround yourself with some really, truly strange friends.
@ -92,7 +92,7 @@ Sasha's addendum:
Ioan's addendum:
> From the author biography for the third edition of *Seven Hearts Turned*: Rareș Bălan was born in 2215 in a small village in Cristești, Botoșani County, Western Moldavia, and often said that his own heart never left the village. His writing has often been praised for its clear-eyed treatment of Eastern European lower-class life, and has garnered accolades from literary journals around the world, including *The Baltic*, *The Steel Nib Review*, and *Craft*. He died in 2268 and is buried in Cristești so that, true to his words, his heart will remain there.
> From the author biography for the third edition of *Seven Hearts Turned*: Rareș Bălan was born in 2215 in a small village in Cristești, Botoșani County, Western Moldavia, and often said that his own heart never left the village. His writing has been praised for its clear-eyed treatment of Eastern European lower-class life, and has garnered accolades from literary journals around the world, including *The Baltic*, *The Steel Nib Review*, and *Craft*. He died in 2268 and is buried in Cristești so that, true to his words, his heart will remain there.
>
> I found this on a library trawl not too long ago. I don't know why I never thought to look him up by his name as an author. I guess I always thought that was my thing, and that maybe he wouldn't be interested.
>
@ -104,7 +104,7 @@ Ioan's addendum:
>
> All of that talk about everyday happiness earlier, and all those words May wrote about living a boring life, and there's little I can add other than, yes, life does as it will, and a boring life is no bad thing. People are born and then, 53 years later, they die and are buried near where they were born. Older brothers upload and the money that brings sends younger brothers to school, just as it was meant to. People see themselves in the pages of a book decades or centuries later and stop having so many unsettling dreams about those they left behind.
>
> There's little that I can add, here, knowing what May wrote, what Aurel will likely write, and what Sasha's sending along, so I guess all I can do is say, as always, all my love to you and yours.
> There's little that I can add, here, knowing what May wrote, what Aurel will likely write, and what Sasha's sending along, so I guess all I can do is say, as always, all my love to you and yours. Be well.
[^justforked]: Five minutes ago. *Just* forked.