Postcard Stories – Los Angeles


6th September – Heather Thomas

“On the morning after his birthday he woke suddenly, thick with the first ambitious thought of his entire life. Beginning in the South of the city he would proceed North eating breakfast, lunch and evening meal in a different restaurant every day until there was not an eatery in Los Angeles left unsampled. This would be a simple dream, precisely executed. It was only on the evening of his 75th as he ordered pineapple rice from a Thai waitress on the corner of 29th that he realized this, and other unknown ambitions, would never be fulfilled. And he wished to begin again, earlier, with a young man’s appetite.”

7th September – Heather Wilson

“At cruising altitude LA is a continent stretching from one side of the wing tip to the other and long beyond. 6 million people live here in cars and one storey houses with swimming pools. The woman in the seat behind me is talking to her cellular phone, ordering two dozen pumpkin iced cookies. Her name is Ruth Lowe. She will pick them up at 2pm. I look out the window and worry for. “Needle in a haystack,” I think, “24 cup-sized cookies in a kingdom of fresh-baked goods.” How could she be anything but lost down there.”

8th September – Karen Kelly 

“On her last day in Los Angeles it rained. The ground, unaccustomed to anything wetter than a gentle sweat was a hard act to follow. On the freeways and concrete flyovers the raining water pooled and curdled in oily sheets. Most people did not own umbrellas and consequently drenched. And while this did not ruin everything she had to admit it was harder to have faith in a damp cactus, almost impossible to believe the Hollywood sign was still there, holy and hidden behind three miles of Northern drizzle.”


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