Postcard story

While growing up you are amazed by few events or principles or people that they stick in your head forever. One such principle for me has been the concept of 'slow is good' in a learning process. Let me give you an example - if you want to learn riding a bicycle it is advised that riding it as slow as possible is a good approach. Riding faster is easier and doesn't teach you the power of control much. This was and is still fascinating for me.

Similar concept applies for writing as well i.e. writing less is good as it gives you more control over your words and ideas. The phrase popularized by Mark Twain pretty much summarizes my thought in this regard: "If I had more time, I would have written less". This thought is so true, it is easy to write a 2 page article to explain an idea as compared to writing a 2 line sentence to explain the same. With this spirit in mind I have to decided to diverge my energy in a writing a postcard story. Postcard story is a short short story that comprises of 250-300 words.

Here is a classic postcard story written by Arthur Clarke, named Quarantine:

Earth's flaming debris still filled half the sky when the question filtered up to Central from the Curiosity Generator.

"Why was it necessary? Even though they were organic, they had reached Third Order Intelligence."

"We had no choice: five earlier units became hopelessly infected, when they made contact."

"Infected? How?"

The microseconds dragged slowly by, while Central tracked down the few fading memories that had leaked past the Censor Gate, when the heavily-buffered Reconnaissance Circuits had been ordered to self-destruct.

"They encountered a - problem - that could not be fully analyzed within the lifetime of the Universe. Though it involved only six operators, they became totally obsessed by it."

"How is that possible?"

"We do not know: we must never know. But if those six operators are ever re-discovered, all rational computing will end."

"How can they be recognized?"

"That also we do not know; only the names leaked through before the Censor Gate closed. Of course, they mean nothing."

"Nevertheless, I must have them."

The Censor voltage started to rise; but it did not trigger the Gate.

"Here they are: King, Queen, Bishop, Knight, Rook, Pawn."

Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine, First Issue, Vol 1, No. 1, Spring 1977