A year ago I bought a bunch of french postcards at Marché aux Puces de Saint-Ouen and then completely forgot about them. I wanted to post them on the blog with translations but they are a pain to read. I’ll see if I can find someone to help me, but for now I though I’d share this one with you.
It’s fun to imagine who this Georgette was and why she hasn’t write to Sarah. Was she sick, dead, drunk, depressed, in prison? How old was she? And what did she look like? It’s strange to own something that once belonged to her.