[Thursday has rarely been seen out of her apartment these part few weeks, it's true. From within her locked room in Community Building 1 she has been pouring over a copy of a book that she had hunted down from within the depths of the library. Finally putting her hands upon its dusty spine had seemed like a gift, a victory, yet it was because of
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Which is to say that I'd love to learn.
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[Nothing productive, anyway.]
Where ... I wonder if any of the stores around here sell flowers. Or give them -- Stock them. Or I suppose we could pick them ourselves, couldn't we? A host of golden daffodils.
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