19: I’ll let you know what I find here. I’ll report back soon.

Writing to you from Choctaw Land, Eastern Oklahoma

I wake and the dim, muted sun is above me, but the curtains keep it from me. I have a bad knee, so I go one step at a time down the stairs of the cabin’s loft. In my hands I hug my journals, phone, and pocket knife I slept with. It’s not that I was scared, but I thought it would be so fucking stupid if someone broke in and I was stuck up on this loft wi…