Other Families’ Photos
The antique mall reeks of nicotine-stained cotton and cold cream. I hunt vintage cufflinks; he buys other families’ photos. Groups of redheads are his Grail. Beach vacations. Weddings. Christmases. Everyone’s always fucking smiling. At home, he removes their faces with an X-Acto knife and glues them onto puzzle blanks. After I go to bed, he plunges reused espresso grounds through vodka in a French Press and reassembles the puzzle pieces into new narratives, families of cardinal strangers that somehow fit with each other. In the mornings I find him passed out; there is always a piece missing – a ginger orphan.
Photo Credit: SamPriestley26
loved it all the through but esp the ending
a ginger orphan – brilliant ending to a glimpse at a life together
Harrowing and beautiful at the same time!
It’d poetry, Rich.