Adam Gnade

Third week alone and the quiet and weather is getting to me. Not getting-to-me-bad but getting to me nonetheless. I see how people in “extreme instances of solitude” become different people. I’m not different-people yet and this is not an “extreme instance of solitude” but, man, all this land and the cold and these dark, long nights, the wind whistling around the farmhouse … it’s something you don’t keep up forever. You should of heard the coyotes last night. My god …