We're waiting for company. Well, it's my cousin, George, and his wife, Isabel, so it's not really company, I suppose. It's visitors, though, with news from the outside world. Oh, I poke through the New York Times and The Guardian every morning, but we don't have much real contact with folks out there worrying about the economy and nuclear annihilation and political upheaval.
How can my timing have been so incredibly impeccable?
Fools are taken care of. Go where the love is.
Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.
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