Patreon! Go there to see at least twice as many bizarre postcards, starting at $3/mo.
Dear Punky,
Tonight, we take over the world, using the very creature who tried to eat us. The probes have been inserted into his brain, and a remote test showed all his voluntary functions under my control. With teeth and claws like this, I can’t fail! I trust you prepared my cockpit in his hollowed-out eyeball, and secured the passage to it through his sinuses, so into the mouth I go! This would be perilous if you hadn’t disabled his swallowing reflex. You did disable it, right? When next we meet I’ll be monster-emperor of the world!
The BrianDear Applicant,
We at Muse-By-Mail appreciate your interest in our services. It’s not easy to admit you need supernatural help with your art, and it’s more difficult still to obtain the address and special postage required to deliver your card to our remote mailbox. Kudos.
You have requested inspiration for an epistolary project that will impress your friends and family. While this is a unique proposal, The Muses are not currently interested in inspiring it. We hope to see more of your groveling in the future. Next time, include an offering.
I have a patreon for these now! That is where you can see every postcard story that I write from now on, starting at $3/mo. One per week! Some postcards will still find their way here, but not all. If you enjoy these, I hope you’ll hop over to patreon and subscribe.
Dear Aldrovandi Veterinary Clinic, Thank you for operating on my fish. I was at my wit’s end with his soliloquizing; his rhymes were slanted at best and he was shaky on iambic pentameter. He’s quiet now, and the collar you provided keeps him from mouthing at the stitches. But they’ve opened up nonetheless—and an arm sprouted from the incision! Is this an expected side effect? He’s taken to grabbing whatever he can get his hand on and brandishing it like a sword, guarding it like treasure, or proffering it to other fish like a bouquet. He really is quite a strange fish. Any advice would be appreciated! Best, PhilippaDearest Wizard, It’s almost time. I couldn’t have done it without your spellwork to weld animating incantations into the metal. I’ve been tinkering with the beauties, building variations on a theme. My enemies think the two in the water are the largest. They think those and the “scale models” are the sum total of my “art.” No one knows how many kelpies I’ve raised. Gorgeous metal monsters of all sizes, who shall soon rampage and rid this island of my foes… and any unlucky bystanders. Consider this your warning: leave Scotland immediately. With love and gratitude, The Artist
Exciting postcard news: I have a patreon for these now! That is where you can see every postcard story that I write from now on, starting at $3/mo. One per week! Some postcards will still find their way here, but not all. If you enjoy these, I hope you’ll hop over to patreon and subscribe.
Dear Liam, For one moment, I knew the meaning of life. I learned it in a crypt. I went as a tourist: go see the ancient bones, weird art made by monks in god’s name. But then the lights went out. Sort of. I could still see. But the other tourists were gone, along with everything modern. It was the kind of quiet that’s loud, the only sound the creak of a skeleton turning his skull to me. He told me the secret that only bones can know. I carry it inside me now, deep inside, but I’ll only know it again once my flesh rots away. Isn’t that oddly comforting? Yours eternally, ColeDear Elizabeth, Evolution is fascinating! Prize stags’ racks get smaller. Elephants are born without tusks. Same with unicorns. Today, at the Queen’s Bestiary, we met the oldest living unicorn. 700 years old and horn at least 4 feet long! The younger ones, captured in the last few centuries, just have dainty twee little horns. Today we learned—fun fact—unicorns simply refuse to breed in captivity. Yet they live forever. Poor things. One wonders what would happen if they mated in the wild. Over generations, would their horns grow long again? Or are those genes lost for good? Wouldn’t it be interesting if a visitor left a pen unlatched, and some horny unicorns escaped into the nearby horse pastures? For science? —A Scientist
