the postcard museum

one thousand and eighty-one postcards, kept in a slat-rack and in seven black-cloth ring-binders, in the back of the tea-shop where mr. ardren took an annexe in 1981. he was sub-postmaster for thirty-one years. the museum is his pension and his retirement and, in his own words, most of the conversation he gets.

the founding card — pinned alone in a small frame above the kettle — was sent from the seaside in 1903 to an address that no longer existed by the time it arrived. it returned to the post office and was kept in a drawer for seventy-eight years before mr. ardren took it home. it reads only: arrived tuesday. weather kind.

he sorts the cards by what was crossed out, not by where they came from. a card with one crossing-out is on the upper rack; five or more, and it goes to the binders. there is a small shelf below the counter for cards on which the message has been erased entirely. nine of these. mr. ardren keeps them face-down.