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.
Brand "X" , and ACME, poems and stories. Surreal, sappy, funny, horrific, and human.
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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