What I want is to write and pick lemons in the sunshine with my daughters.
What I want is to write and swim in the sea.
What I want is to write and live in Spain.
This year, for lent. I think I am going to just give up. Like a circus clown wearing too many hats and spinning too many plates, it can’t be long before I fall off my unicycle and perish under a pile of crockery.

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