My English composition prowess is my pride, my joy… but there is one literary art form that I have yet to master: The postcard.
Oh, how I loath writing postcards. One must convey the expected satisfaction and awe with one’s journey, all the while expressing adequate interest in the recipient’s well-being. They are the most bullshit form of communication, entirely gratuitous and gloating, with no room for wit or intricate anecdote, validated by an exotic stamp and a pretty picture. Here’s your freaking postcard.
Cape Cod has the most majestic seashore. I am enjoying the most wonderful bike trails. The kind locals, august homes, toothsome cuisine are overwhelming. I am sleeping in every day and doing whatever the hell I want. Hope all is well with you, what with your crappy commute and drone job.
