Postcard #28: What the hell is in Oklahoma?

We walk in tandem, the three of us: me, myself, and the wounded woman. The day stretches on, and the heat blasts our feet, turning them red despite some of us wearing shoes for protection. Both my younger self and the woman hardly flinch, the pain nothing more than a petulant fly, but I wiggleContinue reading “Postcard #28: What the hell is in Oklahoma?”