Postcard #14: Puerto Rico Sounds

I can hear the water crash against the rocky mountains. No, wait, that can’t be right. There is no ocean near the mountains. Where am I going? Back. I am going backwards. Bright yellow lights replace the dull blue and grey. The chirps of the tropical birds pierce my ears. Where am I? I don’tContinue reading “Postcard #14: Puerto Rico Sounds”

Postcard #13: Colorado Mountains

I don’t know when I had fallen asleep, or for that matter fallen into a cryogenic freezer which has taken me to a point in the future, because when I wake up I’m surrounded by walls of ice and rock. ” What did you do?” I roar at the driver. They jump, startled by myContinue reading “Postcard #13: Colorado Mountains”

Postcard #12: Backroad Driving

I can see the weariness dragging their face down, down, down, into a dark chamber where sleep waited patiently to welcome them. ” We’ve been here long enough,” I tell them to start the engine and it hums to life with an indignant snarl. I utter a quick apology; our abandonment and neglect of DarthContinue reading “Postcard #12: Backroad Driving”

Blank Postcard #3

A siren rings out in the night, and the police car rushes off, chasing madly after a perpetrator. I wonder briefly if it is a perpetrator at all, or someone the officer needs to catch, a manifestation of a latent hatred planted by an inexplicable evil. I take the pen from their hand and useContinue reading “Blank Postcard #3”

Postcard #11: I Used to Work in Chicago

We sit in the Darth Vader, crumpling the remnants of our meal into a ball that we toss in the back, and watch the stars climb out of the darkness, twinkling in delight at their newfound freedom. For a while we let silence divide us, and we lose ourselves into thoughts and dreams entirely ofContinue reading “Postcard #11: I Used to Work in Chicago”

Postcard #10: The Return of the Irish

“Take a left-” Kathump!” Preferably not over the trash can. Or the drunk college student. Vehicular manslaughter will not do well on your record.” After hurdling over a few bumps in the road, I finally manage to get them to turn into a drive thru. ” What do you want? It’s on me of course.”Continue reading “Postcard #10: The Return of the Irish”

Postcard #9: The Forgotten Tribe

I am stuffed, thoroughly and irrevocably stuffed like a turkey on Thanksgiving morning. My plate is not quite empty, however, and I pick up the spoon and scoop the last chunks of the applesauce. Because no matter what the applesauce cannot remain untouched. I look at myself who has slumped all the way back, theirContinue reading “Postcard #9: The Forgotten Tribe”