On a crisp autumn morning, in his cottage in the idyllic land of the Vale, Mr. Edward T. Cozzlebottom composed the following letter for his secret love, the graceful and lovely Mizz Ezmerelda Wimbish.

Dear Mizz Wimbish, Confessions are something to admire. Don't you agree? Far more confessors, of the subtle variety, would make this world a place more agreeable for all. It is in this spirit that I concoct this missive and subtle confession. I have been taken with you for some number of years. I notice that you are quite fond of roses, as am I. Given our mutual interests, and the proximity of our lives, I think it is time for us to meet fate halfway and talk of things that affect us both. We could discuss your roses, or my books, or any matter that concerns you. There are many seemingly quiet things that happen on our very street that I think could fill an evening, if not a lifetime. If my suggestion intrigues you, I will meet you beyond the honeysuckle on the far side of Embry Lane by the fourth gaslight. I will be there Wednesday just before the lamplighter arrives. I encourage you to consider my offer, as it is filled with gravity.

Most sincerely and with the respect due to a lady of your type,
Edward T. Cozzlebottom

P.S. If it rains, bring an umbrella.

Though these two lonely souls occupy homes separated by a matter of feet and inches, they soon discover that it will take many miles of treacherous travel before they can master the short distance between their hearts and doors. Each one goes on a separate journey that takes them from the startling beauty of the Many Mirrored Way to the blackest woods of the Great Dorianic Forest. Along the way, they encounter the Trench Systers, the Wicked Tinker, the Walrus King, and the Brothers of the Black Lodge.

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