Blank Postcard #14

I sit at the table, staring blankly at the glass of water while my finger spun the straw, making circles ripple and swirl, a miniature whirlpool trapped. Voices buzz around me, but I do not hear them. My dreams ripple and swirl, ripple and swirl, a colorful whirlpool matching the one in front of me.Continue reading “Blank Postcard #14”

Blank Postcard #11

I dive, into a tailspin with no end in sight. The coaster dips and turns, eventually directing itself around one, two, three loops before torpedoing downwards, then spiraling upwards. It’s enough to make the anxious nauseated, the adrenaline junkie thrilled. Around and around, the story plays because that is what it always does, whether inContinue reading “Blank Postcard #11”

Blank Postcard #9

Up and down, up and down, we bob like a float wandering lost among the waves, sailing further and further away from its wailing owner. Well, actually we were on a float, the ferry taking us from one adventure to another. “You know, there have been so many adventures, I’m afraid I may have missedContinue reading “Blank Postcard #9”

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 #18: Singing the Blues in New Orleans

I stop the car at the edge of a small town. From the corner, I can hear the trumpet blare, the owner taking deliberately slow breaths to elongate the sound, speaking mournfully. The saxophone accompanies it, lifting its spirits up with a lighthearted joy. I nod my head, bouncing along to the sultry rhythm sweepingContinue reading “Postcard #18: Singing the Blues in New Orleans”

Postcard #17: Highway to Maine

It is quiet. The air is still except from our soft breathes gently rippling the calm pond. Our voices are strained and weary, yet full of stories battering hard at the walls, desperately trying to dislodge the stone. I drive. Gradually, the mountains slip away, shrinking into the background until the tallest point is onlyContinue reading “Postcard #17: Highway to Maine”

Postcard #16: Going South to North Carolina

The snow finally stops, with only a few flakes still drifting across the parking lot, swirling in one final performance before the white sky lifts its curtain and reveals the sparkling, clear night waiting to take the stage. They look behind their shoulder at the hotel, but the curtains are closed and their benefactor remainsContinue reading “Postcard #16: Going South to North Carolina”

Blank Postcard #6

Through the icy window I watch them slink out of the hotel, their hands shoved deeply inside their jean pocket. I should go after them, but I can’t. My feet are rooted in obstinacy. Where are they going? It doesn’t matter. Will they be okay? I do not care. The energy is zapped, stolen, andContinue reading “Blank Postcard #6”

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”