Weather Permitting.

Weather Permitting

by james bezerra

She has been mailing you postcards from every city she visits. She writes to you on postcards so as to deprive you of the choice of opening an envelope or not. Her postcard from Rome said: I’ve drunk too much wine and I hope you forgive me for being angry with you those times you drank too much wine. Her postcard from Sarajevo said: I know that you wish we’d fought less and now I wish we had fought less too. Her postcard from Bangkok had only a crude and racist drawing of an Asian couple having sex. Her postcard from Uttar Pradesh said: There was supposed to be a second Taj Mahal. It was supposed to be made of black marble and built across the river. It was never built though. This one they did build seems to turns yellow at dusk. Her postcard from Pyongyang had nothing written on it at all and there was no stamp. Her postcard from Manilla said: On the beach I wrote a song called ‘Heartbreak is a Pre-existing Condition’ and I played it on my ukulele until people came by and asked me to stop. I don’t think any of them even spoke English. Her postcard from Montevideo said: A man I met at the Museo Historico Nacional told me that there never was such a dinosaur as the Brontosaurus. For some reason this made me cry. The man wanted to run his hand up under my skirt and I let him because it made me feel less sad about the Brontosaurus. I don’t think the crying really had anything to do with the Brontosaurus though. Her postcard from Havana said: From here I can imagine that I can almost see the continent you’re on and it makes me feel lonely. Her postcard from Reykjavik said: The population here is so small that they all have an app on their phones that they all check before fucking that tells them how closely related they are. Her postcard from Oslo said: You told me once that you liked it when I wore knee-high socks and after that I never wore them again. I don’t know why I did that. I think it was because it made me so embarrassed about my legs to know that you were looking at them, even though I liked it. Her postcard from Barcelona said: There is a church here like nothing I have ever seen before, like a petrified forest melting. If you ever want to find me, I will be here on Saturday afternoons, weather permitting.

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