Picture

Katie saw her dad’s picture right there in the living room. It was great, it had the nice wooden frame around it and him set up there on that chair like a king on his throne. Katie never had forgotten about him. He was always in her mind, but somehow, it seemed like he never was here. It was years ago since Katie saw him last, years ago since Katie really talked to him, since Katie ever touched him. Katie remembered their bonding times together, those rumblings in the living room floor, going to the beach in the summer, even sleeping in the same bed. But, it all seemed like they were only memories of someone else, a tv show perhaps, like it never really happened.

What if it really didn’t happen? What if they were only memories? Memories of some person in her and her mom’s mind that they both share. That wasn’t possible, though. Still, the memories seemed so distant. Even though she still held onto them, it seemed like life had always been the same without him. Anyway, she finally had a picture of him for herself. Her mom helped put it up across the room from her bed in her bedroom. It looked great hanging there, especially here the sun would come in through the window and light up his face. That half grin piercing through his skin showed the kindness he had, and Katie knew that he would now be there to watch over her as he had before.

Katie wondered if he ever thought about her after he died. No one will ever know. But, what made Katie really happy was after she looked closely at his picture. She had given him a heart necklace for Christmas years ago with her picture inside. And, sure enough, in that picture hanging on the wall, he adorned the necklace around his head like a leash connecting
the two together. That’s when Katie realized that they would never forget each other.

2 Responses to “Picture”

  1. These are really good man. Don’t have time to read them all but I’ll get to it eventually.

  2. Bev says:

    that “leash” is almost shocking in its intensity. I love the story. I’ve wondered if my father has thought of me after he died as well. What an interesting sotry – what a fantasic “connection.”

Leave a Reply to Bev