The postcard arrived from Tajikistan by way of Canada, South Africa and Ethiopia. The postmaster stared at it quizzically in her London office. She had just had the cryptic message translated from Vietnamese:
“Send me to Hanoi. Many thanks. Quiet ducks in an azure sky. 7-42.”
Was it an address? A code? Should she notify MI 5, MI 6?
Something in her resisted such drastic measures. Her job was to see mail delivered. This was probably simply a fun experiment, and she was happy to take part.
With a child-like smile, she had the mysterious postcard couriered to Hanoi.
Writing begun 23-08-05 | 99 words