postcard fiction
Dearest Patricia,
We've arrived in Antarctica, ahead of schedule.
Dr. Marvin has been grouchy all week. He
complains of gout and cabin fever all in
one breath. Already this trip feels twice
as long. Intolerable. Wish you were here.
-Claude
Beloved,
Miss you terribly. Marie and I are coping
with parties. A few of the boys have tossed
their gloves my way, but I send them packing.
Bring back lots of pictures! Cannot wait to see
you again. Kisses to you all,
-Patricia
Dearest Patricia,
Out on the ice now. Your postcard arrived
only yesterday, though it has been two months.
Dr. Marvin traps me constantly with his whining.
His cabin fever has worsened. Frankly I hope
his gout strikes him mute. The wind here is
unbearable; howling at night to no end. There'll
be no pictures - the camera broke in transit.
Hope all is well.
-Claude
Dear Claude,
Sorry to hear about the camera. Maurice says
you should take up drawing, like he has. He is
the most charming gentleman. Met him at a party
last week. Son of a duke, most charming indeed.
Best of luck to you, hope these words find you well.
-Patti
Dearest Patricia,
Words cannot begin to describe my loneliness.
The wind taunts me relentlessly. Dr. Marvin has
begun to complain to others that I am incompetent.
I must return to you immediately. Here on this
foreign planet, we grow numb to despair, but it eats
our souls all the same. An endless jungle of ice and
desolation. Oh, to be home safe and warm by your side,
Patricia!
- Claude
Claude,
What has gotten into you? Just take care of
the old man, he bothers you so much. You've changed,
I can see that. We've grown apart these past 6 mos.
You on that uncharted island, and me - well, on my
own uncharted island, so to speak. Hard to explain.
Maybe when you come back.
-P
Dearest Patricia,
I did it. "Took care" of him. Chloroform not
available. He felt everything. Interesting
phenomenon: blood bounces on ice. Was not expecting
so much. Cabin fever is such a pitiable thing. But
now he's gone; just the howling wind and me. And to
think, no one can judge me in this lawless wilderness.
My hands are going numb. Wish you were here.
- Claude