Dear X,

I always complain that my work place has no soul. If you stay long enough it becomes quiet at night, and you realize there is nothing there at all. But sometimes when I get home, and I stay up long enough, I realize that my home has no soul either. But today I found a photograph of a girl hiding in a straw tree. She’s hiding there but she’s waving, too, and smiling. 

Love,
Ricky

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