Each month, I buy a book of twenty stamps. I create twenty post cards. I write twenty short stories about them. I send them to twenty strangers. This is the twenty stamps project.
Request a postcard by sending your snail mail address to sean.arthur.cox@gmail.com or find me on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/SeanArthurCox
Request a postcard by sending your snail mail address to sean.arthur.cox@gmail.com or find me on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/SeanArthurCox
Friday, May 24, 2013
Safe and Sound
The tiny hamlet of Otisburg sat nestled safely between several mountains and a large lake. It had been here for centuries, unmolested. When war came, it walked around. It was too much work, the generals would say, for such an insignificant town. Invaders paid them no mind. In fact, the town had been mostly undisturbed since its creation a thousand years prior. This didn't surprise anyone. People in the surrounding area proclaimed the wisdom of Otisburg's founders to have chosen such a remote spot for their village to ensure its safety. They had no clue just how dedicated the founders had been to keeping access to their small village restricted. When the first buildings went up in the eleventh century, the town sat in the middle of a broad plain, but over the years, the residents of the town carved a massive lake out of the earth to the south and used the dirt and bedrock to build up the mountainous landscape that surrounded them. They were not safe because they were surrounded by mountains. They built up the mountains because they wanted to be safe.
- Originally mailed to L. Sims in Hattiesburg, Mississippi
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