Postcard from Paradise

Famous-pyramidsThe postcard was of the pyramids of Giza.

“Didn’t Mom and Dad go there after they retired?”  Suzanne and I were going through the stacks of paper after Dad died.

“Yeah, maybe that’s Dad on a camel in the foreground,” I said.  I was kidding.  Dad went everywhere in a car for as long as we could remember.

“They are beautiful,” Suzanne said.  “The pyramids, I mean.”

I looked at the photo.  It was all golden, the sand a light gold, the pyramids a darker gold, terraced, precise.

“You couldn’t go there now, too dangerous,” I said. “Pirates, kidnappers -”

“Pirates?!” Suzanne exclaimed.  She was always the expert.  The Older Sister Who Knows All.  “There’s no ocean!  How could there be pirates?”

It’s true I was on shaky ground.  I had been thinking of Somalian waters.  “I mean, kidnappers,” I said firmly.

“Maybe,” she admitted.

She put down the postcard and kept leafing through the stack of papers on the dining room table.

Before we left that evening, I pocketed the postcard.  I thought they were beautiful too.

What do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s