found · pressed inside the back of an atlas
we are here a fortnight now. the rooms
are warm. the boys have learned the
names of the boats. i think of you
often, especially at dusk, and once
in the morning when the bell rang.
— yours, w.
do not believe him
the boats are gone
come north before the
weather turns & bring
the small key
— i.
two messages, two hands. the first is in pale brown ink, the second in a darker blue, written across it at an angle. they cannot have arrived together; they cannot easily be separated. who is meant to read which is one of those questions we do not have to answer for the postcard to exist.
see also · postcard (a) · postcard (b) · palimpsest · key · dusk