The Threads of Time

To my dearest friends,

I am writing this to you as the rains sweat away in the daylight sun, leaving the purple suns to swim to and fro amidst the murky mefabar. It appears that the lavender dancers on the moon, with all their strutting and swaying have spun new webs of intrigue, catching flies like little puppies near the kennels. To this end we have gathered together a hoopla of zebras to assault them with their fanciful braying and prancing. I do not wonder to what end this will all bring to the flies as their desires are needful to the beavers who beat their tails in time to the old clock up the road. We can only hope that the mefabar can withstand the assault and that the threads of time will once again be rejoined in a happy and harmonious way.

Sincerely,
Professor Xamberphlam