1/365: the reality of the first postcard sets in

Sent 1 April 2010

So as I sat, the first fresh blank postcard in front of me, a little panic set in. Although I had been thinking about it for weeks, suddenly I had nothing to say and the prospect of having to do this every day for the next year made me a touch queasy.

What do I write about? The cardboard appeared to shrink in front of my eyes and the task of writing anything meaningful on such a small piece of card seemed impossible. Anyone who knows me will testify that I am never at a loss for words. Why say it in 160 characters ala Twitter when you have an entire dictionary to explore and draw upon? Alas, a postcard is not kind to the overuse of adjectives, nor is it a friend of rambling.

So introductions aside, I threw myself into a brief and rushed explanation of my neighbour’s Christmas tree that was not only still gracing their lounge room but also still shining. A blinking mockery. What would have looked festive in December, in April looked obscene. How does something so pretty turn gaudy overnight?

Till tomorrow.



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