Photo Album

Taking down the old photo album and blowing the dust off. Worn brown cover made from pre war cardboard fraying at the corners into brown dust. The smell of Grandpa’s house, damp, tobacco, old wood, and the sound of a ticking clock. Winter nights by the fire with the wind moaning in the chimney. The quietness of the old things, comfortable things, sleeping in corners, not waiting anymore.

Turning the pages and travelling back into summer on the beach, at the pool, walking the promenade.

Wiping the dust off and slipping it back on the high shelf, the memories quietly singing, then silent.