Cool, huh? Yeah, I liked it. The first is more sweet, the second is more creepy (in honor of Friday the 13th). I hope you like them! :)
By the way, do you know how hard it is to write a story in JUST 100 words...EXACTLY 100 words? Try it. It's hard. The second one gave me a lot more trouble than the first. It wanted to be a lot longer. Ah well, I think I got the point across...
My Dearest Marie,
You wanted to know about my life? My past? Things I’ve done? Well, I have this thing for postcards - some I find, some I receive, some I purchase - Each marking a life event, several I’d like to forget. I’ve kept them. Painful memories. Happy memories. Some best left hidden.
You deserve to know. I hope they explain things I’ve had trouble saying. I’ve placed them for you to find. The first is in our tree. It will tell you how to find the next.
Come find me when you’re done… If you still want to.
Here's the second one!
Marie had a bounce to her step, like this was the best decision ever - being alone with me.
“What’s that?” She pointed.
“A piece of trash?”
“It’s a postcard! Someone’s wedged it in.”
“It’s probably been here forever.”
“It rained yesterday. This ink hasn’t run.” Observant. “Oh my God, Bill! It’s addressed to me! You wrote this, didn’t you?” She smiled and began to read.
I knew what it said, ‘Bill is not who he says he is. Run. Now.’
Her face turned ghost white, terror in her eyes. She took off.
It was so much more fun this way.