Dearest Emma,

It feels a lifetime since I’ve written. The regiment appropriated stationary for sanitation use. I don’t know what they’re doing with the pens.

Excuse this scribble as I am forced to write on the inside of an oatmeal box with my own blood (please wash your hands.)
Morale is low. Our quartermaster was late for supplies & able only to procure spelt & that peanut butter you have to stir. Fat Jack still thinks it’s a hoax & I suspect he’s broken quarantine for 7/11 hot dogs. There’s mustard on his shirt this evening.
We have no mustard.
We’re down to our last episode of “Tiger King.” I lied to the men & told them “Cats” was a prequel. I never thought it would get this far.
You can follow @WoodyLuvsCoffee.
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