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scan0074

My sisters and I sit upright on a long bench in front of

an old cabin wall. Our hands are on our knees; our

chins, turned up; our faces, mock serious, and my

youngest sister’s expression is starting to break

as Mom focuses and refocuses the camera.

 

This image is all pixels.  It exists as ones and zeroes.

I don’t have a copy to hold in my hands, to

smudge with my thumbs or stick on the wall.

It’s private, as are the pictures of my old

girlfriend, buried in an unlabled folder on my hard drive.

 

Although my sisters and I are scattered,

living in three different states, we once

came together for this picture, to play before

the lens, and mock the rigid black and white

family portraits found on the walls of old houses.

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