That polaroid. Buddy was going through his shoebox of old photos, dealing them out like cards on the coffee table. I was stunned, but faked disinterest. The party drifted to the kitchen. He wouldn’t miss it. Xenia, how came this? So young. So innocent of your appalling destiny.
Aremyfeetofftheground 
This brings to mind the song (cannot remember the title) “All I have is a photograph and I realize you’re not coming back any more”. Isn’t it funny how comforting a photograph can bring such comfort when a loved one is no longer with us on this plane of existence?
Great post, Lee.
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That’s Ringo’s song called “Photograph” He and George wrote it together. I had a story in mind to expand upon this post, but it’s stalled for now. A photograph? Sometimes comfort, sometimes sadness…
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Yes, at times they can be bitter-sweet
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