Brandy's Postcard Stories (postcardbrandy) wrote,
Brandy's Postcard Stories


She told me to sit still. “Gerald, stop being Mr. Antsy Pants. Don’t worry about your damn head! I got you covered.” And she did, slapping her left hand where the glare off the billboard hit hardest on my pate. Darlene was always good like that, mothering everyone until the big deal was swept away to nothing. I look at that picture now and laugh because I remember how I’d just wished I could keep her red purse from bonking me in the head.

  • Scarred

    She could feel my body, but I could not feel her touch. The operation rendered me numb, but I knew neither of us was deriving any pleasure out of…

  • Soul Train

    Souls travel on trains. That’s why people become immersed in nostalgia, like it’s a much-needed baptism after decades of hard living, when they board…

  • Seeking

    I was worried that he’d find the chunk of pizza crust lodged in my molar, so I kept it short and sweet, even though it was a long goodbye. I told him…

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