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Dearest Gentle Reader,
This Author must confess that the past seven days have tested not merely her constitution, but her very capacity for surprise. One arrives at Monday expecting the usual tedium of spring – yet what does one find instead? A rapper of questionable visa status, striking physicians, and a government that appears to have misplaced its right hand. By Tuesday, the doctors had not returned, stamps had mysteriously appreciated, and This Author began to suspect the week itself had taken leave of its senses.
Wednesday arrived with unseasonable sunshine, a ceasefire, and a collapsed market – as if April itself had declared war upon decorum. Thursday escalated matters most extraordinarily with recalled loans, maritime piracy, and two hundred and fifty dogs – yes, dear reader, you read that correctly. Friday brought smugglers laundering their operations through car washes whilst the Prime Minister composed verse abroad.
Saturday saw Dukes pursuing legal action most ungraciously, and Sunday culminated in diplomatic collapse before the church bells finished ringing. One remarkable horse, mercifully, reminded us that some creatures yet possess dignity.
This Author shall require an exceptionally strong cup of tea to face Monday next.