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T. R . H U M M E R Without Guilt, the Rural Carrier Reads a Postcard They’re fair game. Anyone who would write Anything important on the back of one is a fool. I saw one once that said, Dear Mama: Hope you are physical. Also mental. Saw the reply: I’m all right, Son, just the same. I lost some sleep that night Thinking. That was years ago. Now all I do is nod when I read them. But I read them all. You can’t make a secret of what’s in plain sight. I had an old woman on the route once who could get Whole letters on them. Long ones. Wrote so small I had to squint in strong sunlight to read it. Wrote everywhere, sideways, upside-down, diagonal. Never had much to say. But what she said I turned sideways, upside-down, and by God read. 64 ❚ The 1970s ...

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