“Good luck,” said the man.
Note: Who is the man who takes her from LAX to the Mojave at the start of her hike?
Instead, I only found more.
Note: At this point, I find the narrator to be an unsympathic basket case. And I don't trust her to tell the truth about her story in things big and small. She wants to be a writer, and her mother died. Those are the only parts I believe.
Please, I thought. Please.O
Note: Oprah's note intrudes. How could an author not see this as a violation of her sacred writing space, as if a sculptor's patron stuck a Post-it on the statue that read "Isn't this great?"
It was my only tattoo—a blue horse on my left deltoid. Paul had one to match. We’d had them done together in honor of our divorce, which had become final only the month before. We weren’t married anymore, but the tattoos seemed proof to us of our everlasting bond.
Note: Weirdness.