A short story of a narrow minded observation.

As he was bending to lay out the postcards he wanted I could see into his soul through the ripped soles in his shoes. He lived a hard life, one that wasn’t flourishing with the opportunity to buy new shoes whenever he felt a draft. An old school postcard man. The kind that probably never stopped writing letters by hand and maybe only upgraded to a typewriter last year. Disheveled hair and unshaven grizzly face, soiled dark blue bomber jacket with matted fur around the collar. He couldn’t seem to put the postcards back properly on the stand. Every time he tried they came falling down around him. Like his life, he just couldn’t get it right. But like life, he kept trying until he got it right, no matter how long it took.

That’s my word.
Peace.

Everything & Anything