The postcard had spent the first weeks of its square life waiting to get a peek of the world. It was part of a set of identical postcards in one of the typical tourist shop postcards roundabouts. There had been 4 more cards in front of it. Then 3. Then 2. That’s when the postcard started to get itchy: Soon now, its time would come.
“I will travel the world,” it proclaimed.
“Be warned. That part of your existence is heavily overrated,” the elder postcard next to it pointed out. “You will travel in a mail bag that gets tossed around. That’s all. Only the most fortunate of us make it to a pinboard.”
The postcard felt a slight letdown. “But maybe I am one of those,” it said.
Then finally it happened: the cards in front of it were bought, and for the first time, the postcard could see the world. The world, it realized, consisted of many shelves full of multi-colored stuff. Again, the postcard felt a slight letdown.
“Patience, my friend,“ the elder postcard advised.
The postcard wasn’t good at patience, but it tried. And finally, everything changed: a customer appeared and turned the roundabout of cards.
The view opened to a long, beautiful beach.
“WOW,” the postcard said and almost toppled over. “That’s me! That’s the picture I carry! I don’t want to leave this place, ever!”
“See,” the elder said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you all along.”