Tag: goodbye

Postcards: Don’t Wait Up

eskaftun
Image of tiny chefs placed on a cutting board among cloves of garlic and garlic skin.
Dear Elsie,

You know how Chef always says there’s no such thing as too much garlic? How I chop and chop and he tells me to get more, to crush it just so? Tonight I snapped. “I hope garlic crushes you!” I exclaimed. And then a trippy blur, like a cartoon dream sequence. Next thing I know, Chef and I are surrounded by garlic cloves the size of boulders. He still seems excited about how great his sauce will be. Sigh.

I’m on my way home, but the journey will take me a long time at this size. Please keep an eye out for your itty-bitty husband.

Love,
Darrin
Image of a boy on a bicycle being hit by a wave.
Dear Mom,
Last night I heard you say a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle. You must be struggling without Dad! I love my bike, but the other kids say I’m slow and ride off without me. So I took it to the fish. It was scary at first, hard to breathe, but the fish told me to relax and I did. They all took turns with my bicycle and I got to ride on the handlebars. It was the best day ever. I think I’ll stay here. You won’t miss me much, since I’m not yet a man.
Love,
Benny

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Postcards: Ancient Mistakes

eskaftun

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IMage of the Chichen-Itza pyramid against a purple sky. A person climbs its steps.
Dear Kirk,
The UFO descended from a gorgeous sky—so fast!—until the whole pyramid was shadowed by its enormity. A loudspeaker spat crackly syllables belonging to no earth language, overlaid with a robotic, uncanny, emotionless second voice: “Payment on this structure is in arrears. The grace period of one millennium has been exceeded. Repossession will begin in 10… 9…” There must have been a lag, because before “8,” the whole giant pyramid shuddered up into the UFO, with us clinging to it for dear life. The aliens say they’ll only take us home if Earth pays what they owe, so… I’m guessing this is goodbye.
I always said I wanted to travel more!
Love,
May
Image of a statue head broken on the floor, looking gloomy.
Dear aspiring emperor, This lesson can only be learned too late: photos don’t steal souls, but sculpture does, embedding a piece of you in every pair of stone, plaster, or metal eyes. A heady rush at first, to be sure! Once, I looked over countless town squares across my empire. But statues topple even easier than empires. Now my many eyes behold middens, ruins, rioters with pickaxes. Yet I live on, perhaps forever, infamous, with nothing but my memories as I watch my works crumble. Yours in despair, Ozzie