Postcard

Dear citizens of Earth,

We are the defeated and the betrayed. We are the vagabonds begging forgiveness. We are the crippled and the maimed. We are alone and unloved. We are the aged and the weary. There is no happiness or joy. There is no depression or tears. When we venture to your town, you walk past us as though we were invisible. We exist only in the memory of stray cats and trees. Here at the end of the world there is no light and the nights are never-ending. Strange things happen here. Failed businessmen jump off tall buildings and keep falling, never to hit the ground. Beautiful women beg on the street for kisses and hugs. Politicians donate their wages to the poor. When a young girl cries, saxophones wail in the streets. Salesmen give their merchandise away for free. When it hails, yellow and red tulips fall from the sky. There is no wealth here because money does not exist. There is no crime. Policemen sing in karaoke bars: songs about love and loss. Music is the only currency. Inside every heart there is a song waiting to be sung: songs of bitterness and confusion; songs of life and death; songs of salvation and redemption. These postcards are songs too, strange songs sung by soft whispering voices echoing at the end of the world.

Hello and goodbye,
from the man
with the invisible limp.