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Stuff, and things

Dear Ex,

I'm cleaning my room. I found a bunch of your stuff, left over from almost four years ago when we'd been living together and moved out of the cabin and left most of our stuff at my parents' house when we went off to college in Arizona.

My parents and I will be dropping off a bag of your stuff off, probably in your driveway.

Please take note of the blue ribbon in the bag. It used to have a knot tied in it. The knot has been cut. I'm fairly sure you have already figured out that it's over, very much over, but please take the blue ribbon and the return of whatever of your stuff I can dredge out of my room as further evidence against the two of us ever shagging, dating, being friends, speaking at any length, or ever getting within a hundred feet of each other again.

No more love,
she who decidedly isn't your wife.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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