Postcard #215: Recidivism

Original Text:

Beth Lot [?] or L ox [?]

D12 

Jefferson St

Oregon City, Oreg

To:

Minnie Wane

New Text:

My daughter is quietly sitting in the car seat. I look up to the rearview mirror and lock eyes with her. I ask again, "Who did you push down at school today?" "Penelope." She answers. "Why?" "Because."  I sigh and she replies. "She was on the playground with her arms out like this." She held her arms out in a sort of crucifixion pose, head tilted back, pushed forward against the car seat restraints.  "You pushed her because her arms were out?"  I scoffed. "No, I pushed her because I wanted to be alone by myself." "Why didn't you just walk away then? Or tell her you did not want to play?" "No." "Why not?" "I don't know." The car came to a stop at a red light. "Why did you want to be alone?" I asked. "Because I wanted to read. Time out means you have to go inside and read. In the corner. So I pushed Penelope down and teacher gave me a time out." She was looking out the window watching a child in the back seat of the car next to us. I was looking at her in the rearview mirror. The light turned green and when I brought my attention back to the mirror her eyes were waiting for mine. I averted my eyes first.

I sent this to a family member.  A future one at least.  Reading over this...I wish I worked the grammar a little better.  Its hard to read when its a sort of stream of conciousness kinda format.  

Postcard #197: "Ana"

Card Flavor text:

US-7244918

SCENIC OREGON COAST

Arch Rock from Maxwell Point and the beautiful Cape Mears Light House in the background.

"ANA"

I looked up. "What?" "This place, you know I'm really going to miss it." I put my drink down and took in the humid NY City night and scene. I glanced at my sweaty glass and wondered if my confusion was alcohol-induced.  I counted back drinks and applied sobering metrics to all my food. Then calculated my probability that I was drunk or something was off. I looked over my shoulder then looked back at her. "Are you talking to me?" "Yeah! "She laughed and shifted her drink and pushed her hair out of her eyes.  Was she flirting? Did I miss something? She continued. "This town, New York, you know. There really isn't anything like it in the world?" "No, I guess not." Quickly deciding New York isn't all that great. I took a sip of my drink. Who the fuck talks like that? Like speaking dialogue from a film...within

reality. It was confusing, it wrecked my buzz and it was the weirdest conversation I have ever had with an Ana. 

www.minormumbles.com.

Sent via postcrossing to relvita.  This is a true story.  There is a little part of me that wonders if this is the same Ana.  Which would just be HILLLLLAAAAARIOUS. This Ana from what I remember had decided she was going to move to the UK for work.  My friends and I had met up with her in NYC in what was to be one of her last few weekends before moving to the UK. We were sitting at a bar with outdoor seating.  I think she was taken by the bustle and energy of the city.  Something I never really fell for...

Postcard #122: "13th hour"

Sent via postcrossing to paisdasmaravilhas who specifically said she wanted cards of Chicago.  I then tried to put a storycube story on the back of it.  At the suggestion of Sam...she suggested that I roll the number dice and then chose dice according to what I roll.  I admittedly liked the idea.  It presented a new challenge.  It hatched a story idea...and then I failed.  Failed pretty hard.  Barely got all the dice in.  I barely got all the story on the card.  I rushed what was actually there.  A poor attempt and I got nearly two drafts of this story done prior to writing the card.  DIFFERENT DRAFTS each time.  Seeing how I wasn't getting anywhere.  I just started writing and two of those dice really fucked my shit up.  The microscope and the alien face.  I might have been able to make pretty solid story if it wasn't for those damn dice.  I need to go back to the drawing board for my story cube game.  Not sure how.  Maybe two number dice.  One die to chose they style of play and the other to chose how many dice from the pool will be chosen.

Postcard #119: "I looked up..."

Sent via postcrossing to TX1997 who wanted Alice in Wonderland.  I did not have much of that.  But I did have this card I found in Seattle a few years ago.  With a little editing I turned it into a postcard.  She also said she did not want to read "Happy Postcrossing!" Which I can totally relate...

Postcard #112: "Jim Looked Up"

Sent via postcrossing to Tagir who wanted pinups.

Postcard #112: "Jim Looked Up"

US-4125560 “Looked up #1”

Jim looked up. Michael just sat down at the table in front of him. He had a massive apple fritter struggling to remain on a softening paper plate.

Jim swallowed unconsciously as Michael sawed at it with the dull side of a fork. Cutting through what Jim estimated to be a quarter stick of butter. Which oozed between the tines of the utensil.

Michael stopped and met eyes with Jim “I’m feeding my inner fat bitch…Her name is Sorrow.”

Jim laughed.

Michael now seeing the futility of formalities stabbed the fritter with his fork. He brought the dripping mass of carbohydrates to his mouth and bit in.

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