Picture Perfect



Sometimes they hold memories,

Sometimes they show us places,

Oh, aren't postcards just wonderful!

In a world full of busy emails,

I still receive snail mails

Like it's not a superfast rat race,

But indeed the serene era of

Handwritten letters and postcards;

On one fine day, amongst

An endless list of bills

And promotional pamphlets,

My mailbox served as a shelter

For one of the most beautiful

Postcards that I had ever come across,

The picture on it was a room

Painted in fiery red,

Almost as if the room itself

Was engulfed in a mad inferno

That would jump out of the picture

And onto my stunned body;

There was something about the picture

That left me feeling unsettled

For the longest of times,

And it took me a fifth re-look

Of this beautiful but strange postcard

To realize that the room

In the postcard was indeed on fire;

As I frantically turned the postcard

To seek the name of the sender,

All I could see was the word

"HELL" written in bold black letters,

And when I turned the postcard back

To see the room in it,

I could now see something else,

A dark and malicious figure

Staring back at me with a

Face that was the same as...My own.


//NaPoWriMo, Day 15

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