Sunday, December 05, 2004

A picture crashed to the floor in the dead of night. 

A framed photo of my father-in-law taken when he was young, about twenty, a handsome young Scotsman with a cheeky grin. Only a small picture, about six by eight inches.

It was a still night. No one had slammed a door (only I was home and I was in bed), there were no sudden vibrations and no storm or wind was rattling the house.

Of the forty-one assorted pictures and plates, some large, hanging on walls in various rooms, it was the framed picture of my father-in-law that fell to the floor.

My father-in-law had died two weeks earlier.

The picture didn't break.

is it time for a nap yet? i think so

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