Photo

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The photo on Damien’s self is covered in dust. It’s pushed right back so that it sits in the shadows.

The frame is made from a light, grainy wood, most likely beech. It’s got a few cracks. Whether these are natural or the results of it being dropped, Damien cannot remember. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t want to remember. When looking closely, a slight change in the woods colouring is noticeable. Damien’s parents had made sure that the photo was given pride of place, right in the centre of the windowsill. The sun had begun to bleach the wood, making it paler than it originally was.

Some pieces of glass are surrounding it. When his parent’s had insisted that the photo be on show, Damien broke it. He grabbed it and ran upstairs, slamming it on the shelf. As he did this, the glass shattered ad fell from the frame. He never bothered cleaning it up. That would mean disturbing the thick layer of dust that obscures the actual picture.

The picture itself shows three people. All smiling happily. It was taken during Damien’s first year of secondary school. He’d gotten together with two of his friends and they’d started messing around with a camera. Eventually they’d found and mastered the self timer, which enabled them to take the picture. It was Damien’s favourite photo. But things have changed since the picture was taken and it got pushed to the back of the shelf.

Damien may not look at the photo any more, but he still remembers it.