An Old Photograph
An Old Photograph
The verse
The vignette
Every house has one drawer like this, not organized, not labelled, just a place where old photographs collect because no one has decided what else to do with them.
Pull one out at random, and it rarely shows what you'd expect. Not the big day. Not the planned moment. More often, it's someone laughing at something off-camera, or caught mid-sentence, looking slightly away from the lens.
Those are the ones that last longest in memory, oddly. Not because they were important at the time, but because no one tried to make them important. They just happened to be there when the shutter clicked.
Maybe that's the quiet trick of photographs, they don't preserve what mattered most. They preserve what happened in front of them. And somehow, looking back, that turns out to be enough.
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