The confines of my soul, I've been wondering this worn out the trail for what feels like an eternity. The World around me is slowly changing into a beast I don't want anything to do with. I've wandered this trail for God only knows how long, I'm a lost soul walking across the land that God made. With nothing more than the clothes on my back, a weather-beaten hat, and rifle with exactly enough ammo to stop a buffalo I'm its tracks or someone looking for trouble. I haven't seen another soul for what feels like a lifetime. But again that's a good thing, the last thing I want is to deal with a preacher of God or someone looking for a handout of some sort, usually whiskey or tobacco, that's when I reach for my rifle and drives them in the opposite direction. I have no time for these beggars. But my trips weren't always like this, I had a normal life once, well as normal as the next guy. I was a farmer out in Virginia, with a wife and two children. A son named Abe and a daughter named Violet. It was a run of the mill family life, that ended with cholera, in the time of a month I lost my family. It took everyone I loved but left me for whatever reason. I promised myself that if I came across God himself, I'd put a bullet between his eyes. I wandered the countryside trying to find some sort of peace in this land. I have no home anymore and figured why not attempt a trek out west. Maybe I'll find what I'm looking for or perhaps I'll find a slice of heaven on the coastline. Gold doesn't do it for so when I see wagon trains filled with starving bodies, sickly looking bodies, I tend to give a slight chuckle. Fools chasing after a dream that won't bring anything but pain and death. I don't have a map drawn out, I'm just fixing to find myself a place to stay for the night. A few hours ago I saw a roughly made out sign for a nearby Fort Laramie. Hopefully, there will be a place to stay. In the distance after much walking, I seem to have discovered the faint glimmer of hope in the middle of nowhere. Quickly as I see this a wagon races past me like a bat out of hell. A sea of dust fills the air and causes me to cough. I hear the loud cries of a woman in pain, hanging out of the back of the weathered wagon, I see the limp arm of someone hanging over the back. Not giving up on my journey, I continue to walk through the dust blindly, whatever happened I'll find out soon enough when I reach the fort. But in all honesty, I could really care less. The dust begins to fall back to the ground. A faint cool wind from the north dusts me off. I know the last leg of this journey would be the hardest, my body is aching, my stomach is eating itself, and all I want it a place to lay my head for the night. With my legs in pain and my body ready to give up at any time, I can hear the laughter of those camping outside of the fort walls. The faint music of a fiddle carries on the wind, the aroma of stew calls out to me, and before that, a gathering of wagons off to the side is seen. A man standing on a wooden box holding something calls out for forgiveness. "Nothing will save you but the Lord. May he bless us and give us guidance on our pilgrim travels. We are like that of your a son and his followers. With your word we give thanks, Amen." Says the Preacher. "Amen." The vast collective says in response. I walk past the collective, not wanting to draw attention to myself, but this doesn't seem to happen. The voice of preacher shouts to those listening in my direction. "You there lost lamb. What brings you to this God-forsaken place?" "I just want a place to sleep and something to eat," I say. "Well then, you need to fill your soul first, and then everything will come to you." "Thanks," I said and went about my business. While I walked away, the Preacher continued about his service, and soon I reached the entrance to Fort Laramie. I wandered around and came across a large older man, stirring the contents of a vast cast iron pot. Hanging from a wooden rack, its contents were filled with what I assume was beef stew. He took one look at me and nodded. "Howdy, you look like a man who's hungry." He said with a grin. "You know me to well," I replied. "Who you with?" "I'm by myself, walked here from Rockbridge." "No wagon?" He replied, shocked at my response. "What can I tell yeah." "Usually, it's five cents for a bowl, but since your here by yourself, and came here on foot. Here's a bowl." He scooped out a serving of stew in a wooden bowl and handed it to me. "Thank you kindly," I replied. "Do you know where a guy can have a good night sleep?" "Well, those in groups stay outside the walls, but since your here by yourself. I'm going to do something kind for yeah, you can sleep in the stables. Now, if anyone asks, I don't know a thing about you." He says with a chuckle and points off to the direction that will be my place of rest. "Thanks," I replied as I take my stew over to the stable. I made myself comfortable on the rock hard dirt floor, ate my only meal of the day, and quickly as I placed the bowl on the ground. I fell asleep with my guard down and it was the best night sleep of my journey.