A Dutiful Daughter by Elizabeth Kate Switaj

The first indication I had of what I look like came when a man put me back on the rack, remarking that I was too pink. Over the weeks that followed, I gained a few more ideas about my appearance from the comments of people in the shop. My photographic side had been taken at sunset, or maybe sunrise, and depicted some church. There was disagreement as to which one; I’ve never seen any of them, so it doesn’t matter so much to me. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what a church is supposed to look like at all.

When I was finally purchased by a young woman, I had grand hopes of being sent to her lover, of feeling words of passion etched across my back. As it turned out, she sent me to her mother.

Having a wonderful time in Venice.
Wish you were here,
Lynn

She didn’t even mail me until she got to the airport. Not Marco Polo, the dingy Ryanair one.

I just hope her mother displays me somewhere interesting. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that a postcard’s life is glamorous.

.

Return to This Week’s Flash

9 Comments

Filed under Elizabeth Kate Switaj

9 responses to “A Dutiful Daughter by Elizabeth Kate Switaj

  1. Being a postcard is tough work, thanks for sharing!

  2. Kathleen

    This is really lovely. (@kissability)

  3. Kim Hutchinson

    The dashed hopes here are fun, even if the life isn’t glamorous! :)

  4. Nice strong voice here–well done.

  5. What a bitch that tourist is!

  6. Ha! Very funny and cute. Peace…

  7. Pingback: Week #28 – the postcard | 52|250 A Year of Flash

  8. Thought you captured the POV of a postcard perfectly; especially liked it complaiming about what post office it was being sent from.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s