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”
Tag Archives: writing
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”
Postcard #26: Boston Tea Party
The sun tears through the tent, the light ricocheting off the orange flaps, and my eyelids are blinded by multi-colored stripes. I yawn, stirring. My companion is awake, stiff and motionless from the discomfort of a cool night. There were no blankets, no soft pillow, none of those things we treat as a need whenContinue reading “Postcard #26: Boston Tea Party”
Blank Postcard #12
They come to me in my sleep. Dreams. A dizzying sort, the kind in which up is down, down is up, fragments of reality scattered in between the abstract fuzziness. At the bottom of it all is a nagging fear. They will leave me soon. I am coming to the end of the line, toContinue reading “Blank Postcard #12”
Postcard #25: The Irish Seas
The calm stands over us, the gentle breeze both cool and warm as it comforts our ailing hearts. Me, I am guilty, and as usual it threatens to overwhelm me. I should not have shared that story, the one that occasionally haunts and keeps me up at night, especially when Valentine’s Day is looming, comingContinue reading “Postcard #25: The Irish Seas”
Postcard #24: Into the Not-So Tropical Island
Breath in. Breath out. That’s what they tell you in mindfulness exercises. Focus on your breath. Focus, focus, focus. I focus on taking one step at a time as we finally leave the roller coaster, both of us a bit woozy. I focus on the cracks ripping through the sidewalk, the result of erosion orContinue reading “Postcard #24: Into the Not-So Tropical Island”
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”
Postcard #23: Savannah Jungle
Up, up, up we went, the tracks clicking as we are closer to the crest. Suddenly, we stop, and our cart rests right at the top of the roller coaster. I look down at the little dots moving like ants below, some probably wondering what is going on. I shift my attention out to theContinue reading “Postcard #23: Savannah Jungle”
Postcard #22: California Dreaming
The boat thumps against the dock, jerking us forward. ” Sorry!” calls the sailor, his apologetic tone slightly slurs, indicating he had been asleep and wakening at the last possible minute. “Where are we?” my companion asks as they stretch, crossing their arms behind their neck and rolling their neck back and forth. “Give meContinue reading “Postcard #22: California Dreaming”
Postcards From Myself 