Photographs. They are a great moment-capturing tool, trapping within it’s 4” x 6” frame the particular scene of the person or people in that particular place, expressions and emotions varying. One two snap, clock ticks on. The subject in the photo laughs, leaves the scene with the photographer. Time ticks on. The scene changes, people grow up and change, emotions flow and never return.
Then one day, the photographer goes through his photographs and stumbles across the one taken that day many years ago when the sun was shining a little brighter, when the skies were bluer, when the wind was blowing softly through her hair. The sparkle in her eyes as she grins at the camera, posing before the landmark. The unknown man in the background, shielding his face a little too late from the camera. A moment to look back on when things are so much different. A precious moment to hold on for a lifetime.
You ask yourself, whatever happened to the people in the photographs? What have they been doing ever since the photo was taken? From the second the camera snapped, trillions of their cells have died and regenerated, changing the person a little by little from inside until many years later they are a completely different person, although they may look the same. Day to day emotions affecting them, gathering in their minds until it collects into a giant mess of life-changing moment. Until one day you see her on the street, looking quite the same with the same cute mole on her left shoulder but yet, not quite. Would you go back home, look at the photograph and regret? Regret what exactly I can’t say. Would you stand and curse the world, curse Time, curse Change? Would you just sit back and accept everything as it comes, or will you pray for the impossible: to go back into the past?
Would you be happy with what you have achieved your entire life when you are old, grey and eighty? Or would you close your eyes and pray for death to come quiet and swift and take you away from a lifetime of pain and regrets?
It is better to know and fight for what you love than to have Time come without a warning and break your heart into tiny little pieces that cannot be put back together no matter how the king’s horses and men try.