Photograph

He sighs with a glance at the photograph, and with another sigh he places it back facedown on the mantle.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I still can’t do it. I can’t just happen to look up and see you staring back at me.”

He shambles over to the recliner, and continues his conversation with the down-turned picture. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed by you,” he explains, “It’s just so hard to see your smiling face, because all the memories come flooding back at once. I just can’t handle it anymore.”

The recliner squeaks as he slowly rocks it.

“So many memories.”