Leave No Trace

I suppose it's good in the woods. But I suppose it's good for other things too. Like trying to ditch the cops. Not that I know what that's like. Not that I know what this is like. But I lie. The fold down mirror. The place for one. Things in a box. An entry table stolen. Cloak and dagger. And truthfully I've still got little to show for it. So I get it. Of sorts. And satchels.

And that's how it would have stayed... if no light came around. With the dark. And a lot of it. Both. And those woods I don't intend to visit again. He doesn't either. There's the great part. You never camped there. No scraps. No fire ring. No leftover stumps. No footprints. So I'm going on. And I'm prepared to go it alone.

But I promise there's a place for you too. I'll see you when you get there.