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Every Picture Tells A Story
Night Owl
nocturne121
They say, "Every picture tells a story." And the story a picture tells is of stories sometimes of times long ago. Lifetimes sometimes. It speaks ever so softly with a silence no one can hear. It talks in a secret language few can understand. However, in this room of pictures, I am overwhelmed as they all shout out at me. Tonight it is a language I can understand.

They bring back time to the old as an aged woman will relive her youth in the voice of a photo. Her narration to the young audience, present or not will reveal the story the picture tells. The smile in contrast with the lines on her face will give only an inclination to the emotion she once felt. But she feels it again as the picture and her converse.

In a room full of pictures speaking to me I relive times of not really so long ago. But I had forgotten the moments or at least I had placed them in a distant part of me; a drawer full of clothes I no longer wear.

It started with just one voice that I could hear. One picture speaking to me. Telling me of a time I once lived as though it was not me that lived it. And then the drawer opened and I put on old clothes again. I relived the moments as the picture spoke to me. I saw my life and an earlier version of me as I stood behind the lens taking pictures. Pictures that would later bring me back to that moment in time. But I guess that is what a picture is supposed to do. But should it do with such an intense feeling?

Oh, that was the you I loved. Your aura in a picture is frozen in time. Oh how I loved you then and oh how I still do. But it is different now as time has moved well beyond the story told in this photo of you.

My eyes move on and I look upon another picture and it takes me to another place in my life's unwritten history. A time when I was . . . me. It was a time of independence and strength. Not that I am not strong now, but it was somehow different then. Of course it would seem that way now. It began then, with a professional behind the lens and me the subject of interest. And now with this picture, I am the topic of this silent conversation. I am by looking at this photo encouraged to remember the day as it is told back to me, through a moment captured in an instant that has long since passed.

And I do. I remember it so very well. Not the day before, or the day after, but this day is now again so clear to me. Though not forgotten, but not always realized, it is still alive in this silent reality. In each picture that I see, I am taken back to another reality. And I wonder what to do with these memories.

Oh these pictures and what they make me see. With the story that they tell, they ignite my life's memories.