Postcards received by Harriet

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Dear Harriet

You should see this place—nothing but emptiness and roads and the world's largest alligator. This town is called Christmas, Florida, and I am as hot here as you can imagine. A news van backed over Swampy's (that's his name; you can walk into his body!) tail while I was watching, and crushed a couple feet. The people here are taping it up as I write and think of you.

Yours, you know it, Liz

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Dear Harriet

I know how you love this shit. It's great. I'm a little drunk. I'm in Saint Augustine, Florida. I'm standing underneath what claims to be the World's Largest Ball of Barbed Wire. Assembled for God Knows What. I am loving the sun. I wish I could be here always, or sorta always. Wish you could be here with me and the Ball,

Liz

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Dear H and anyone else who's spying on her mail,

Why does Lakeside, California have the World's Largest Wind Chimes (held up a hundred feet in the air by a crane)? They do chime a little when the wind picks up, they say. I have been here for an hour and have only heard it once, and it was loud. I am keeping it together here without you, but only barely, XOXOXO and XXX,

Liz

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