The back panel of my computer, once humming with light and purpose, now sits quietly, a maze of ports and potential gone still. I had meant to use a picture of a wet morning glory for my postcard, something living and bright. Still, when the computer quit and took that image with it, this became the story instead: the silent aftermath of failure, the machine that held my day’s beauty turned into the subject itself for my 10/14/25 postcard.
My 10/13/25 postcard comes from an overcast day in Bullhead Park, a single pine branch…
My 10/12/25 postcard is a bright yellow bloom standing alone in a Nob Hill yard,…
My 10/10/25 postcard is a weathered figurine with an oversized head and a single earring,…
My 10/09/25 is a honeybee buried in a violet cosmos, wings glinting in the light.…
My 10/08/25 is a jack-o’-lantern planter sitting atop a cut log, its grin brightened by…
