Pomi, Postcards and Postcrossing
” Can I help you Mr. Pomi?”
” In my chest of drawers?”
“The cap isn’t here.”
” Of course not.”
” That’s my postcard collection.”
” I didn’t know you collected postcards.”
” It’s not much of a collection yet. There are hardly a hundred postcards.”
” I’m taking this to the living room.”
Pomi pushed the box through the whole house and dragged it up the table. ”
Do you need help?” I offered, but did not receive an answer.
and emptied it on the coffee table
” How do you know all these people?”
” I don’t.”
” So how come they wrote to you?”
“Not long ago I heard about postcrossing. A project that allows anyone to receive postcards from random places in the world. You send a postcard and receive one back. I joined.”
” Because I am tired of only ever finding bills and advertisements in my mailbox so I decided…” but Pomi was not listening to me anymore he was too busy looking at the postcards.
” Yes. That is one of my favorite cards. – You know Pomi, I don’t think we should say Indian chief.”
” Why not?”
” It is not politically correct. ”
Pomi looked puzzled.
” Some people might feel offended, diminished or excluded. ”
” Really? Who is this card from?”
” Don’t you want to hear more about political correctness?”
” No, I want to hear more about this postcard.”
“That is a card I received from a class of five year olds who learned about different countries.”
“There are recipes here as well. Buckwheat porridge and … elk stew. Yuk!”
” The card is upside down Pomi.”
” So is my stomach.”
Pomi jumped up. ” I am going to write more postcards”, he shouted and ran upstairs.
When I entered my workroom I saw Pomi’s cap sitting on my desk.
” That was not there before”, my little crochet darling remarked when I handed him the cap.