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39 Postcard Smells like mushrooms & horses up this high. Frost on the tent mornings. Water from the spring is cold & sweet. Two days since I’ve seen a person. Make you scream like a wildcat under all these stars. Call when I find a phone. Back soon. When he’s out in the desert it feels like she’s sharing him with someone else. He talks about rocks for weeks after, and she catches him studying his boots covered in that pink, fine dust, boots he’ll clean just before he leaves again. Stones appear in his pockets, and she finds topographic maps stashed in the cushions like letters. ...

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