The face in the shoebox
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.
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Lee Dunn View All
Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.
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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