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: Travel
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’tContinue reading “Postcard #34: Tiny Home In Iowa”
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 itContinue reading “Blank Postcard #17”
Postcard #32: The Wild of West Virginia
Time passes as it always does; either too fast in which we beg for it to stop and slow down, dreading what the day, week, month, or year brings us or dreading what we may miss as something grows and changes as it is supposed to, or too slow in which we beg to hastenContinue reading “Postcard #32: The Wild of West Virginia”
Postcard #31: Alone In Arkansas
I stir from my nap, my eyes still groggy and blurry, hanging onto the last snippets of the dream, catching them as one catches butterflies. The sun is casting its glow downward, turning everything to bronze with a simple touch. We are still nowhere and everywhere, mulling in thoughts and dreams and desires and pastsContinue reading “Postcard #31: Alone In Arkansas”
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”
Postcard #29: Misery or Missouri?
We are famished. Somehow, we drag ourselves off our feet and make it into the nearest café willing to take in an unlikely group. The waitress reminds me of the one in the pink zebra shirt, the one we left behind what feels like eons ago. This one is prettier, friendlier, smiling in such anContinue reading “Postcard #29: Misery or Missouri?”
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 #27: Meet Virginia
The boat sails closer and closer inch by inch; the wind is dead flat, rippling with life every so often, feeble yet still there, not yet gone all the way. We watch together but a part, our thoughts aligned yet separate, mine elevated on a trail made from the years spent working on it. TheyContinue reading “Postcard #27: Meet Virginia”
Postcards From Myself 