Sending Postcards in the Electronic Age

Postcard 2

Postcard 2 (Photo credit: launceston_lad)

Postcard Shorts publishes flash fiction of 250 words or less.  Or flash nonfiction. Their theme is “Stories that fit on a Postcard.”

They published three of my stories, two fiction pieces: “When I Make Myself Imagine” and “The Professor and the Gangster” and  one nonfiction piece: “39 Tulane.” (OK, to be fair, they rejected two of my stories, but who is counting?)

You can search for stories by title or author, or you can go ahead and submit your own story. It’s fun, easy, and a good way to develop ideas for possible future stories, or to take a break from that long writing project.


Wilhelm von Gloeden (1856–1931), Portrait of a...

When I Make Myself Imagine

(Flash Fiction)

© copyright 2012   Sara Jacobelli

I am Carmella, the pretty, shy Sicilian girl in my homeroom with the long, thick, shiny black hair and brown eyes that never meet your gaze. Who is engaged to Lino. I am fourteen, he is twenty six, works in the factory, speaks no English. My parents would be thrilled if I was Carmella, politely and quietly engaged to a “nice Italian man” who will take care of me.

I am Carmella. I can imagine sitting in her front parlor, the plastic covering the furniture squeaks each time I move. And my parents and grandparents chat with the nice young man in Italian, no, Sicilian dialect. They drink espresso with Vov or maybe open a bottle of grappa. And the clock on the wall tick-tick-ticks whenever there is a long silence. The fat black and white cat who doesn’t like him climbs into my lap and I stroke its fur patiently while it purrs.

My future husband looks very old to me. I try very hard not to sigh, because that would disappoint my parents. If I am Carmella, I am good, and do what is expected of me.




English: old books in Château de Breteuil, France

 The Professor and The Gangster

(Flash Fiction)

© copyright 2012   Sara Jacobelli


He smiled, a soft brown beard, a professor’s jacket. We stood there looking at each other. Lesley came back from the bathroom. “Why are you standing out here, freezing to death? Get in.” She drove from the gas station, and the professor kept looking at me. He must be an English teacher, and as I looked through the rear window, I pictured the life we would have. Cocktail parties steeped in witty talk, trips to Europe, the books we would publish together and Lesley maneuvered her faithful Dodge Dart onto the highway bringing me back to East Main Street, the screaming babies, the crowded railroad flat, the blaring TV, the welfare, the food stamps.

Palermoscreenshot of Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney an...

He got out of the car with a smooth masculine gracefulness and when I knew I was going to walk by I tried to think of something to say. My boyfriend beside me seemed too tall and American and white and clumsy. Pasolini described all Sicilian men as having an air of “shepherds asleep armed with knives.”

I passed in front of him, the limo door open, the driver and bodyguards standing still, everyone looking at me as if our tableau was intended and our eyes met, I said, “permesso” and he said, “prego.” I still sense the darkness of his dangerous eyes, the smoothness of his skin, the deepness of his voice.


Bus on Rampart Street, New Orleans

39 Tulane

(Flash Nonfiction)

© copyright 2012   Sara Jacobelli

Every day I meet my maker. Standing at the bus stop, sweating in the sun, soaking in the rain, a bible in one hand, a megaphone in the other. He never misses a day of preaching the Lord’s word. He wears shorts and sandals and a fanny pack, his stomach bulging, his toes dinosaur toes. He warns daily of the coming Apocalypse. I haven’t seen him since Katrina.


October 7, 2012: Update! Postcard Shorts just published my flash fiction story, “They’re so Cute at that Age!”

Photo Credits:

“Postcard 2” by launceston_lad.

Wilhelm von Gloeden (1856-1931) “Portrait of a Sicilian Girl from Taormina, ca. 1900.” Public Domain.

“Old Books,” Wikipedia.

“Bogart and Cagney in Roaring Twenties,” Wikipedia.

“Bus on Rampart Street, New Orleans,” GNU Free Documenation License, Wikipedia.


1 Comment

Filed under Literature, Uncategorized

One response to “Sending Postcards in the Electronic Age

  1. Pingback: Sending Postcards in the Electronic Age | Capitare a Fagiolo

Leave a Reply

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