Freighted from the restless thrum of the Halloween season. This epistle writ, kindled in our blood’s suture, addressed to you, @Rocheveil. Know that my mind is bound to our warmth, and to the blithe hilarity we reiterate underneath the same sheltering roof. This pumpkin candy I proffer as a sweet currency of fortune, a flavour that’s indelible to the soul, even if frights haunt us. Tonight, may all our ardours be exchanged and known, may the togetherness defy the last dim. I yearn for our home to be perpetually filled with bliss and the transcendent wonder of our paradisaical ligature.

XIXI