The Postcard

 **FRONT OF THE POSTCARD:** A cartoon of a man in a pinstriped bathing suit, so pale he’s practically translucent, attempting to eat a jumbo ice cream cone. Behind him, a seagull the size of a small aircraft is swooping down with a look of cold, calculated murder in its eyes. The caption reads: *"Having a 'Wail' of a time in Blackpool!"*

**THE BACK OF THE POSTCARD:**

**To:** Mr. & Mrs. Henderson

**Address:** 42 Gloom-on-the-Wold, Surrey

**Dear Arthur and Beryl,**

Well, we’ve arrived! The British seaside—where the sand is 40% crushed seashells and 60% cigarette butts from the 1970s.

We’re staying at the **"Majestic View" Guesthouse**. The "view" is a direct look into the local chip shop’s extractor fan, and the "majestic" part refers to the size of the mildew stains in the shower. I asked the landlady, Mrs. Higgins (a woman who clearly drinks vinegar for breakfast), for an extra towel, and she looked at me like I’d asked for the Crown Jewels.

### Current Status Report:

 * **The Weather:** Horizontal rain. It’s the kind of rain that finds its way into your soul. We spent three hours under a pier today just to stay dry, sharing our space with a very depressed donkey named Keith.

 * **The Sea:** I dipped a toe in. I can no longer feel my left leg. I believe I saw a crab wearing a tiny woolly jumper.

 * **The Food:** Standard fare. Had a "Mega-Cod" for lunch that was mostly batter and hope. I think the fish died of natural causes sometime during the Major administration.

**The Incident:**

Poor Derek tried to fly a kite on the promenade. A gust of wind caught it, and for three glorious seconds, he was airborne. He was eventually brought down by a stray stick of rock and a very surprised Labrador. He’s fine now, though his trousers will never be the same.

We’re currently sitting in the "Family Fun Zone," which is a damp shed with a broken Pac-Man machine and a smell that suggests something crawled behind the radiator in 1994 and stayed there.

Tell the cat we’ll be home on Friday, provided the rail strike doesn’t mean we have to walk back via the Pennines.

**Warmest (not really, I’m shivering) regards,**

**Mavis & Derek**