Trouble In Paradise
Angelica’s had enough of this place.
Everyone is too nice, nothing but sweetness and light. Really, an occasional puzzled frown or heartfelt tear wouldn’t go amiss. And the music – please! All that la-la-la-ing is getting old fast, not to mention the blasted harp night and day. Oh for a bit of birdsong, or better yet, sweet silence!
She’s so not into the food. Milk and honey, blech. How about a tall stack of blueberry pancakes? Most of all, she misses the feel of fresh earth beneath her feet. Whose fool idea was it to pave the streets with gold?