Dear reader, Humble greetings from The Palace, a structure somewhere upstate surely surrounded by naiads and dryads. Kelsea sleeps in front of the fire after working hard to craft her Floam into the word “getaway.” Mason is kneading dough, because they bake bread from scratch for fun. Christian is lounging, lightly tripping by the window, delighting himself with each song he’s queued up. I told him something that’s really fun to do on acid is to restock firewood from the garage, and I was surprised to see that he seems genuinely excited by the idea.