Total Turtle Tea Trolley

The basket of the Arctic Tern’s blue-and-gold balloon is rustling against the railing of my second-floor apartment. The Rainocious Rhinoceros is climbing out to tap on my sliding glass door with his nose horn. It is time for me to leave. At long last, I am going to the Metmow, to live for good.

It will be wonderful to see my old friends in the Metmow, the ones whom I have described to you over these many months. Of course, there will be the Chief Tea Turtle and the Under Tea Turtles. The Baby Diu, the Philosophical Bunny, the Scuirellis, the Buffalini, the Binocelumps, Bernice — all will be there. And there are many whom I have not been able to tell you about, such as Miss C., Hortense, Nestor, and Paddles. I wish I could write about them, but there is no time left for me here.

Even though I know much of what there is to know about the Metmow, I do not know whether there is any Internet there. In a way, it would seem better that there should not be. But if there is, I will post here and tell you not just what I know, but what I have seen with my own eyes.

You have been good readers, and I will miss you — indeed, the outside world — very much.

Try to make the world more like the Metmow.

Yours, the Chronicler of the Total Turtle Tea Trolley, Jonathan K. Cohen