the old-photo sit

Find one old photograph — in an album if your house still has them, in the phone's far scrollback if not. One with people in it, some years behind you. Set it where you can see it.

Now the rounds, with open eyes, the way this page once sat looking at a steel glass. In through the nose for a count of four. A small rest at the top. Out for a slow count of six. Settle, then again — and all the while, look at the photograph the way you would look at something you had never seen. The haircuts. The curtains behind everyone. The person laughing at something just outside the frame, at a joke no one alive remembers.

Three rounds, one photograph.

The people in it were once exactly as tired, as young, and as unsure as you are tonight — and there they are, smiling. Sit with that for a breath longer than feels necessary. Then you can stop here.