Dear Wigleaf, you may not believe it but this is the best postcard I could find @ Oasis Travel Center outside Ogallala, NE. I hate this godforsaken state. It's ugly & endless & my brother's dying & I can't get to Iowa soon enough. Just got a text that he's on morphine only now & I should hurry. Exclamation points. Fortifying myself with caffeine & Reese's. The clerk here at the "oasis" barked at me for the high crime of putting Dr. Pepper in one of the styrofoam cups meant for coffee. You put the wrong lid on too. Barking. Told her she could charge me whatever she fucking pleased for her trouble. My hands too shaky to get the lid on right. She put it on for me with a big fucking sigh. Sorry for terrible penmanship. Wish I could turn into a hawk & fly right over the endless miles of stubbly fields. Oh & some advice b/c I consider U a friend: Never EVER dine at a place called Runza unless you're suicidal. Ok? I gotta go. My phone's vibrating again. Frankly, I'm scared to look. Wigleaf, U & I both know the hard truth: People just go. Seems impossible for ones of such vast spirit, but they go just like everyone else & then they're gone. Best we pay closer attention to them while they're here. Yes? Yours always, Kathy

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