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 wordsContinue reading “Blank Postcard #18”
Tag Archives: healing
Blank Postcard #16
“Do you ever have a dream, a dream so wild and wonderful that you can hang onto the pieces and put them together like a puzzle, completing a full story?” the young me doesn’t look up from what they are doing. They found a piece of chalk and were scratching into the pavement, the blueContinue reading “Blank Postcard #16”
Postcard #30: Southern Bells of Charleston
We are back on the street, our bellies full, our minds temporarily satiated; although we are lost in our own worlds, ensnared in a web of our own thoughts. We walk silently, me, myself, and the beautiful young woman who refuses to leave our side. I am glad for her company, if only because sheContinue reading “Postcard #30: Southern Bells of Charleston”
Blank Postcard #13
The young woman with the most beautiful, enchanting name in the world opened her mouth to sing along with the one man band standing on the edge of the sidewalk. Her voice struggled to be heard, to find an even rhythm, but steadily, gradually, it shined brighter than a star. I could hear her story,Continue reading “Blank Postcard #13”
Postcard #28: What the hell is in Oklahoma?
We walk in tandem, the three of us: me, myself, and the wounded woman. The day stretches on, and the heat blasts our feet, turning them red despite some of us wearing shoes for protection. Both my younger self and the woman hardly flinch, the pain nothing more than a petulant fly, but I wiggleContinue reading “Postcard #28: What the hell is in Oklahoma?”
Postcard #19: Jolly Old England
The music fades. The sweet aroma hangs in the air, lingering as an aftertaste. We sit on the roof, our legs dangling over the side, and watch the people pass us by beneath the pink and purple of the falling sun. Another day is sweeping us by, but that does not matter. I am inContinue reading “Postcard #19: Jolly Old England”
Postcard #15: The Trail to Oregon
We sit in silence, the garble of the television the only thing coming between us. I don’t know why I turned it on; the cacophony is messy, indecipherable, and no good to our sensitive ears. Besides, how much do I want to somber my already somber mind with events of a future so bleak thatContinue reading “Postcard #15: The Trail to Oregon”
Postcards From Myself 