2 Works by goldinavonlea
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Dear Gilbert,
I miss you already.
I couldn’t choose one way to start this letter, so I have elected to use them all.
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Summer had arrived in Avonlea. In all truth, summer had arrived in Avonlea several weeks earlier, but the inclement internal weather of Anne’s life of late had rendered the view rather cloudy from her window for a while there, and so perhaps it was better to say that summer had arrived—finally—in Anne.
And what a summer it was.
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Or, Anne and Gilbert spend 5000 words ignoring all rules of Victorian propriety in favour of becoming the human embodiments of warm syrup.