October, thine dark stress hath passed. Thou hast forsaken mine self once and for all. Yon jackanapes doth torment no further, twixt the moonshine and the sun.
In sooth, I doth hope that yon month behold a many splendid adventure and whatnot. Lest mine eyes do deceive mine mind, yonder horizon beeth divine with hope.
Fare thee well, thee spongy puttock.
I am banish-ed.
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