One week, and I have a chance to try again.
I cannot get that idea out of my mind as I look towards my start date next Saturday. Campo awaits, my flight is booked, reservations are made, and my daily temperature check has been holding steady at 97.7 almost every day.
The path is shockingly clear, reminding me much of the aftermath of thunderstorms in my youth. After the staccato strobing lightning, the ground shaking thunder, ...
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