Every postcard tells a story
Narrative Fragments: Every Postcard Tells a Story
Originally published in The Observer on Saturday, 4 July 2026, this feature explores the intersection of photography and literature. A group of esteemed writers—including Julian Barnes, Ali Smith, and Geoff Dyer—were tasked with crafting "miniature stories" inspired by the imagery on the backs of vintage postcards.
Project Overview
The following table summarizes the contributors and the primary themes of their vignettes:
| Author | Primary Setting/Theme | Key Motif |
|---|---|---|
| Sarah Waters | Paris / Longing | A green silk gown |
| Geoff Dyer | New Mexico / Existentialism | The "expanded rut" |
| Akshi Singh | London (Barnes) / Family | Crows and Lenin |
| Max Porter | Tandil / Archaeology | Ziggurats and ashes |
| Ali Smith | Wales & Scotland / Loss | A red dress on a chairlift |
| Sophie Elmhirst | Brooklyn / Irony | The "thrift store" |
| Susannah Clapp | Sunny locale / Whimsy | "The Jolly Little Tifter" |
💌 The Postcard Chronicles
Sarah Waters
Yes, I am aware of our agreement regarding correspondence, but you must look at her, Anna—the gaze, the look of her. It is you exactly, as if you were wearing that green silk dress again. I spotted her in a hotel lobby display; my heart skipped, and I snatched her up while Fred was preoccupied with the almanacs.
That was two days ago. It feels agonizing to rely on a paper substitute while Max keeps the actual you in Paris for another three unbearable weeks. Is there no way you can arrive before the 21st?
X (I know what we said about letters. When you arrive, you can scold me as harshly as you wish—just please come, Anna. If this note upsets you, simply burn it.) (You've done the same to me.)
Geoff Dyer
Found this piece in a quaint little junk shop. It serves as a hint of a potential end: a single structure remaining while the surrounding area is leveled—Hiroshima'd obliterated by a terror so immense and pointless that no one dares claim it.
Regarding Manifest Destiny, observe the horizon of land and sky: the endless promise of the non-human. It reminds me of how DHL described his first encounter with New Mexico.
I've visited the Lawrence ranch three or four times now. This makes the trip a sort of auto-(mobile)-pilgrimage. Then on to the Lightning Field, where I've been twice before.
Good God—what does this reveal about our existence? Even within this staggering vastness, a form of contraction occurs; the world's miracles are reduced to a mere .
Akshi Singh
As I promised, here is an update on our London visit. We are staying with F’s mother. Last night we returned "late-ish" (though in the neighborhood of Barnes, late-ish occurs much earlier than elsewhere).
F’s mother was dressed in her usual palette of reds and blacks. Her thick hair was secured with a sparkling, lobster-shaped claw clip featuring a diamantine eye—a gift for her 80th.
The Crow Quest:
- Search for a crow-shaped clip.
- Find a bird that isn't a "fat hen."
- Accept that fish dominate the hair-accessory market.
She knows every crow in Barnes Common by name; they actually greet her. She denies it, but I've seen them conversing! Last winter, while she was bedridden for four days, a crow visited her window daily.
We helped her with a crossword (I am useless at anagrams). She mentioned a reading that changed her view on political assassination. While I made tea, she noted:
"Lenin argued that political assassination is a symptom of anarchy, occurring when organized resistance is absent. If Lenin says it, we should probably listen."
When I handed her the tea, she asked my opinion, then immediately smiled and added: "I must admit, it's terribly satisfying to see awful people die." Axx (!!!)
Max Porter
To: Broseph of Arimethea-Under-Lyme
From: Tandil
Subject: Not a total waste of time
We need to return to Dur Kurigalzu with a fresh perspective to properly examine the ziggurat.
Top 3 points for your contemplation:
- Is Brinsley le Poer Trench correct about the Somerset temple?
- We should scatter Dad's ashes in the barrow at Wellow.
- I remain your intellectually superior sibling.
— George
Ali Smith
I discovered this postcard in a Welsh junk shop. I am almost certain the woman on the chairlift—located in Perthshire, Scotland—is my mother.
This is the moment I reveal that I never knew her; she passed away in the hospital the very day I was born.
Life often mirrors this: we all recognize it, regardless of how things are supposed intended to look or turn out. I had ducked into the shop to escape a sudden downpour, crossing disused railway tracks to get there.
The shop was typical:
- Damp scent
- Old carpeting
- A saucer holding a tangle of necklaces, rings, and brooches
- Postcards tucked into desk drawers
This specific card was right at the front. She was perched high up, radiant in red, looking as though she were riding a flying red snake, wearing sunglasses.
Sophie Elmhirst
To: M + D
I'm sending this with a heavy dose of irony—a concept I trust you've mastered during my absence. I found this in a thrift store "thrift store" (look it up) in Dumbo (also look it up) and bought a stamp.
I absolutely love Brooklyn and am determined to return. It turns out this is where actual writers reside, not West London—though it's a mystery how they afford the rent.
It's a strange realization: aside from the two of you, nobody actually cares about my location or my profession.
Susannah Clapp
Charlie remains quite thin, but he doesn't mind the heat of the sun. He composed a song regarding my hat; he calls it “The Jolly Little Tifter.”
It is located in the cigar.
Related Media & Gallery
Below are additional images associated with the feature and related articles regarding Nicholas Serota and JD Vance.
