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Dear Dev, I know it's been far too long since I last wrote — nearly a year, I think, since your wedding. I've been meaning to tell you about the rather dramatic turn my life has taken, and a proper letter feels more fitting than a quick text. Back in March, I finally did the thing we used to joke about at university: I quit my job at the accounting firm. Fifteen years of spreadsheets was enough. I'd been feeling restless for a while, and after my father passed away last winter, I realized I didn't want to spend another decade in a grey office tower. So I handed in my notice, sold the condo, and moved out to Elk Falls, a small town about three hours north of the city. Here's the part that'll really surprise you: I've bought a small orchard. Twelve acres of apple and pear trees, plus a crumbling old farmhouse that needs more work than I'd like to admit. The previous owners let it slide, so my first summer has been all ladders, pruning, and learning from my neighbours, who have been endlessly patient with my questions. Just last week, one of them spent an entire afternoon teaching me how to tell when the pears are finally ready to pick. I won't pretend it's been easy — I've never been so tired, or so sunburnt — but I haven't once missed the commute. The best surprise is how much I enjoy the quiet. Do you remember that camping trip in second year, when we got hopelessly lost and slept under the stars? It feels a little like that, every single day. Anyway, the real reason I'm writing: the farmhouse has a spare room, and the guest bed is finally assembled. You and Priya should come out for a weekend this autumn, once the harvest is in. There's a cider festival in town that you'd both enjoy, and the drive up here is beautiful at this time of year. Let me know if you can make it. Your friend, Marcus
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Dear Marcus, What a letter! I read it twice. I'm genuinely thrilled for you — though I can't say I'm entirely surprised. Even back at university, you never really 7. the corporate path everyone assumed you'd take. An orchard suits you far better than a spreadsheet ever did. Priya and I would 8. to come out in the autumn. A cider festival sounds perfect, and Priya's been desperate to 9. the city for a proper break. Just send us a couple of dates that work around the harvest and we'll book the time off. I'm sorry to hear about your father; I know how 10. the two of you were. Do send a photograph of this "crumbling" farmhouse — I suspect it's 11. than you're letting on. Your friend, Dev