Postcards

Not sure what caused this one to come out. It’s still a work in progress.

Let me know what you think.


Postcards


I picked a book from the carousel, something to read on the beach. I prefer the feel of a real book and, thanks to years of training and working in the field, I know “I prefer the feel of a real book” tells the reader so much about me. Just about everything you need to know if you’re paying attention.

My son, Jeremy, laughs at such statements. He has his ereader. Nook? Kindle? Android? Phone? I’ve lost track, he has so many devices. I’ll have read four to five pages by the time he’s found what he’s looking for on his various devices.

You would have thought my son would be more organized. I don’t mind him using devices, but for Chrissake organize yourself.

I’ve noticed that about younger people. They lack some rudimentary skills and my memory at twice his age is better than his. I remember where he put things better than he does, and they’re his things!

But a good book, a good cigar, a solid wooden beach chair with canvas strappings and a foldover shade to keep you out of the sun. Yeah, that’s the ticket.

The little bell over the door jingled and I looked up.

I know her. Or knew her. Couldn’t place her name. But my pulse quickened. Her, I remembered.


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