I love this idea. I have been collecting post cards from around the city for about 3 months. You know what I am talking about, those free cards you find at places of business that usually advertise events or businesses. I try to find the really cool looking ones. Then all you have to do is paste some white paper on the back of the card (if it's not already blank), write a quick little note, and send it away to someone! I love post cards so much that it even inspired this short-short (a kind of a poem) I wrote years ago. Be kind people, this was one of the first poems I ever wrote.
Secretless NoteWow, how bad was that? So bad, that I feel I need to explain it to you. It's supposed to be a glimpse of these two siblings who lost a parent. It's told from the mail man's perspective. The "string of cards carefully wrapped in colored card stock" is supposed to be a reference to sympathy cards. So, the brother bailed out and left the sister to take care of everything. The mail man has been putting the story together just from mail he has been delivering. Okay okay, enough of my dramatic angsty poetry.
The post card features a young man surrounded by young ladies – Italian maybe? The post card was part of long series that had started three years ago after a string of cards wrapped carefully with thick, colored card stock. The young man had traveled from the tops of mountains to secluded islands. He always smiles and waves. The mail man enjoyed watching this young man find happiness in travel, a luxury he could never afford. He walked up to the mailbox and carefully placed it inside the mail box of Olivia Allen of 209 Robin Ridge Way. Her brother had abandoned her to deal with reality on the home front. The mail man looked up as he closed the box to see her watering some ferns on the porch. She pulled her long cardigan close to her body as if to keep the tension from escaping.As she walked to the mail box, she smiled wearily and waved at him. She fished through the mail and came upon the post card, she seemed to smile and frown at the same time. She flipped it over to read the message, “Wish you were here.” The mail man saw a glimpse of desperation in her eyes before she shoved it in her pocket and walked back inside.
I'll try to do a monthly update of all the mail I have sent out. Maybe you'll be lucky and receive a post card with some bad prose written on it! Or maybe a care package of baked goodies! Do you still send old fashioned mail? When was the last time you hand wrote a letter?