Photographic Memories
Late night thoughts
My mother collects photographs. She has more than I could ever count stored in antiquated albums and now in a nebulous electronic cloud somewhere in the sky. She says they remind her of people long gone or perhaps just far away. Memories that she holds dear. Flies in amber, frozen in that precise moment when the button is triggered and the lens opens, turning life into hundreds of little pixels. I once asked her if she kn...
