I would rather wash dishes slowly, fingers tracing the greased plates, stroking up and down and up and down until the soap suds dissolve every trace and leave them sparkling, smooth, clean. I would rather vacuum, the low rumble vibrating in my hand, through my arm, making my shoulders shudder a bit, moving back and forth and back and forth circling the floors, tracing patterns on every rug. I would rather dust the furniture, gently flick each surface with a feather, work around delicate trinkets and heirlooms heavy with the weight of generations of expectations. I would rather water the spring flower pots and check their vivacity, pluck the leaves that wilted in the midday sun, and flirt with hummingbirds that kiss the salvia.

Publisher’s Note:

Anonymous postcard above appeared at Facebook: PostSecret on the first of September 2022 (link retrieved by MacQ on 19 December 2022).

Amy Marques

grew up between languages and cultures and learned, from an early age, the multiplicity of narratives. She penned three children’s books, barely read medical papers, and numerous letters before turning to short fiction and visual poetry. Her work was nominated for Best of the Net 2023 by Streetcake Magazine and is published or forthcoming in journals including Jellyfish Review, Gone Lawn, Star82 Review, and Sky Island Journal.

Author’s website: https://amybookwhisperer.wordpress.com