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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