Continued from May 19, 2018
#AmWriting #Fiction #IndieAuthor
Marcus found the box of pictures quickly, whispering a quiet thank you to his wife as he opened it. He began pulling frames from the box, inspecting each before setting it aside for the next. He knew which picture in particular he wanted to see, and in the span of a few minutes had it in front of him.
The picture was small, compared even to the next smallest in the box at just over five inches square. A Polaroid of Dylan and Gail in the yard, framed in a dark cherrywood frame. Dylan was there with his already darkening blonde hair while Gail had her arms wrapped around him. She was halfway through tackling him when Marcus had taken the picture.
“You were so small,” he said, touching Dylan’s face before turning his eyes to his wife’s smile, “and you, my love, were so happy.”
A light breeze came through the room sending a shiver up his spine as his stomach throbbed in pain. He winced from the pain and stood, pulling the picture to his chest, before walking to what Gail had always called his ‘comfy chair,’ where he sat down, waiting for the pain to pass.
He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the chair. His mind wandered back to the day the picture had been taken.