Welcome to the Post Office!
Here you will find stories from my travels near and far that I wish to share. Perhaps there is something you can learn from them, or perhaps this is a waste of time because everything I say you already know. Regardless, I believe everyone has a story to tell and to tell through eyes that do not see the same as their neighbor. Warning: I do like to write in a fictitious style that is layered in truth. Which part is the truth and which part is fabricated will be for you to decide.
Latest from the Blog
Blank Postcard #18
Frustration boils. I’ve hit a wall. The bag of postcards I carry fall onto the ground, and the strap comes lose, letting my stories fly, fly, fly away, encaged birds finally free. How many times must I start over? How many times must I try to describe the same thing, and each time my words…
Postcard #34: Tiny Home In Iowa
I am exhausted. My feet are telling me to stop, but my mind is telling me to carry on. We have been walking for hours, days, weeks, months, years, who knows for how long. At first I felt nothing, but some of my stories, my memories, are tapping into a deeper well, one I didn’t…
Blank Postcard #17
I see the kid in the red pullover jacket sitting alone at a table, with nothing but a water bottle covered in a motley array of stickers and a journal. Their head is bowed, and they scribble furious, ripping pages here and there in frustration. One such paper flies my way, the wind carrying it…
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