Traditional flash designs on Valentine's cards

We lost the light off Spurn on Tuesday and I have thought about that swallow every hour since. It came aboard at first grey, blue as a milk jug and plainly worn to the bone, and it sat on the cable locker as if it had paid for the seat. Cook wanted it off the rail with a broom. I told him swallows bring a man home, which is nonsense, but he left it be, and by noon it had gone east over the wheelhouse without a backward look.

The shark came up in the net on the third day, grey and furious, with teeth like a row of bent nails. Skipper Hargreaves put a bullet through its head and we all stood about pretending we were not frightened of a dead fish. That is the card with the shark on, so you may tell your mam it is my honest opinion of the North Sea. The anchor is for the mantelpiece, since you have been on at me to hang something proper over the grate. The heart with the flame on it I have kept for last.

Bessie in the shop let me have four cards for a shilling, on the promise I would not glue anything to the backs. I stuck black parcel tape across the top of each one instead, and wrote your name in capitals so you cannot say I was mumbling. Under the swallow I wrote that I am stuck on you, which is the plain truth and the only joke I have managed since Monday.

If the swallow was right, I will be on Thursday's tide, and the kettle will be on if you are kind. If it was wrong, the anchor is yours and the shark can keep the rest of the sea. Yours, Tom.