The Postcard

She picked up the mail laying on the hall table and idly leafed through the envelopes, bland and white like usual. Then there it was – a postcard in rich and glorious color, of, she guessed at first glance, some European palace interior, all gold and extravagance.

She turned it over.

“Dear Jeannie,” it read, “I have finally found what I’ve been looking for.”

She glanced down to see who had sent it – but there was no name there.

She looked at the address – yes, it was her name and her address.

Was someone playing a joke on her, she wondered? Not that she could think of anyone who would. And on second thought, the stamp was a German one and so was the canceling stamp.

But she didn’t know anyone in Germany, or in Europe for that matter. And neither could she think of anyone she knew who was traveling there.

“That’s odd,” she thought.

She read again, “I have finally found what I’ve been looking for. You wouldn’t believe how amazing this journey has been or how incredible it is to finally know. Come join me – I think you will find your answer here too. Start at the gold dot.”

“Weird,’ she thought, “this is just plain weird. For one thing, I’m not looking for any answer, and what gold dot anyway?”

Even as she was thinking it, she became aware of a her finger resting on a slight bump on the face of the postcard. She turned it over and sure enough, there was a small gold dot stuck to the surface.

Now she looked at the photo on the card and at the area right around the gold dot.

Suddenly she felt her heart begin to pound and her legs felt like rubber. The postcard slipped from her grasp and fluttered to the floor as she sank to the floor after it.

She leaned back against the wall, needing its support. There she sat, unaware of the discomfort of her position, eyes closed, and mind simply unable to comprehend the reality of what she had seen.

Some minutes later she became aware of a tingling in her right leg, on which she was awkwardly sitting. She shifted position, then looked for the postcard, which was laying facedown a few inches away.

Suddenly her mind was racing. “It couldn’t be, it just couldn’t possibly be, not after all this time.” She grabbed for the card, turned it over and looked again. Yes, there it was – small, but clearly visible now that she had recognized it.

So where was this? And who had sent this postcard? What had they found? How did they know about her dream or that she had as good as given up on it?

One thing she suddenly knew without doubt – life had in an instant changed completely and while she didn’t yet know how or when, she would be starting a journey as soon as she could.

© 2003, Evelyn Grace Marinoski