These postcards form a teaser for a story that I have been working on for some time, the first part of which I hope will be available soon. They should appear as flip cards (unless you’re on a small screen). If you would prefer a plain text version, it’s available on page 9 of the Vault.
Water Witch
August 12, 1958 — A perfectly perfect day, just having fun by the lake with all the Bob-Whites, but it’s like a dark cloud is hovering over us, or maybe just over me, because everyone else seems to be happy and carefree and looking forward to a bright and sunny future, which, of course, I am, too, in a way, but oh, why does Jim have to be going away? I mean, I know that we all have to grow up sometime and it’s such a privilege to go to Oxford University, but it’s such a long way away, too. And then I look at the picture on this card and I feel… calm. I regretted making the joke about the rowboat being bewitched, right after I said it, on that day so soon after I met Trixie. It seems like a lifetime ago, but it’s only been two years. And now everything is going to change and I’m going to miss Jim and Brian, but Brian does have to leave sooner, for some reason, and nothing will be the same again. I just want to hold onto days like today forever.
Bicycles
September 6, 1958 — A beautiful Saturday where Trixie and I decided to ride our bikes over to Croton for a picnic. We invited everyone else, but they were all busy. We had such a lovely time there that it was nearly dark as we were coming home, just like in this picture.
These Walls
October 19, 1958 — I should have written this card on the day that it happened, and now I can’t remember which day that was, but never mind. The whole trip to England and back is like a blur, or maybe like a dream, but with moments that are as clear as if they just happened. This isn’t a picture of the place where this happened, but it’s the closest I could find and the words fit just so well, because it’s about secrets, which of course, I have. It was just Trixie, Jim and I, and we were exploring Oxford by ourselves, and it was so interesting and fun, looking at all the old buildings, and even inside some of them. And at one of them, and I’m not even sure which, Jim put his hand on the stone wall and said something about “if these walls could talk,” and I saw that look on Trixie’s face, the one she gets when an idea sparks her imagination. But what I thought was that walls don’t need to be old for them to know secrets. The walls of my own house have seen things that no one would believe if they could tell them.
Haunted House
November 1, 1958 — I’m so embarrassed! Last night, at the haunted house that we were helping to run, Lester Mundy jumped out at me from a dark corner and I got such a fright that I screamed and then some of the decorations fell down all over him and he got all tangled up and fell over, pulling down even more, but luckily Miss Trask was there to fix everything. I don’t know what I’d do without her!
Lytell’s
December 7, 1958 — An ordinary day, with ordinary things like riding to Lytell’s store for the Sunday papers. I miss Jim, I really do, but I’m okay. And I miss Brian, too, of course, but it’s not the same, because he isn’t usually at breakfast, which Jim usually is. Or, he was. But soon he will be home for Christmas and he’ll be at breakfast again. And for a little while, I can pretend that everything is fine again. And that my secret doesn’t matter.
End notes: Written for CWE#29.5: Postcard Fiction. The idea is to choose a postcard and write a short piece which might go on the back of it. I couldn’t stop at just one. The postcards themselves were designed by Mary N./Dianafan and I altered one of them slightly. Mary also very kindly edited them for me. Thank you so much, Mary!