RIP Sophia
Happy is she who has been in her barrow three years today.
That would be me.
Sporadic years, but count 'em. Three.
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The seasons fall like silver swords, the years rush ever onward; and soon I sail, to leave this world, these lands where I have wander'd. O Elbereth! O Queen who dwells beyond the Western Seas, spare me yet a little time 'ere white ships come for me!
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