Kate B passes on a link to a gem of a short story from The New Yorker. Ravenna, Italy; mosaics; fathers; daughters; tourists; heaven; postcards! Need I say more?
I used to be a postcard addict, mailing them from all over. Now I hardly travel and the last time I sent one was on our honeymoon, I think. I used to write letters and received them in return. When I was in college the wall above my bed was plastered in postcards. But this story does more than simply capture the magic of postcards. It provides a glimpse of heaven.
Join the discussion