Postcard #34: Tiny Home In Iowa

I am exhausted. My feet are telling me to stop, but my mind is telling me to carry on. We have been walking for hours, days, weeks, months, years, who knows for how long. At first I felt nothing, but some of my stories, my memories, are tapping into a deeper well, one I didn’tContinue reading “Postcard #34: Tiny Home In Iowa”