Prologue

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I, Angel of the misfits, being of unsound mind leave this as my last will and testament on this day the third of August in the year that I turn 19. The laws that govern the Realm of the Lost hold whomever discovers it to the task of taking it to my parents (last please, I don’t want to be unburnt) by way of The probably blind and must be as mad as I boyfriend Orwemi Jackson, Wemi to those who know him, in a new envelope that I have kindly provided with the mailing address. Thank you. From now onwards, I will assume I’m either talking to Wemi or The parents or both.
I hope this letter finds you well. It won’t, I know that but I was hoping it would.

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