Pictures aren't your life, they're reality. Some people hide from them; hiding from reality. They put their pictures in a box and keep them there until dust forms around the sides and then someday they might get their hands a little dirty to go through the good times and the bad. Other people show their pictures off like trophies, on the walls or kept in perfectly depsigned scrapbooks. That's the kind of person I want to be. I'm the kind of person that shoves reality into a box. It was finally my time. Time to open the box and wash off the dust like old memories that will disappear from the box,but remain in my heart. It was at a point in my life that facing the pictures was necessary. In fact it was a school assignment, that i decided to get an early start on.
I opened the lid, and an empty house filled with familiar faces. As I picked up one picture after another, they stuck to my fingers. I stared at them until they imprinted themselves into my mind. Too bad each picture comes with a time and place,not just a face. The knot that once disappeared started to wind slowly in the pit of my stomach as each memory came flooding back.
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