The Photograph

This piece was written for Sunday Scribblings. The topic is "photograph."

The tasteful black and white photograph rested on the fireplace mantel. Carefully preserved in a vintage frame, the photo was a focal point of the living room where she often gazed at it with a melancholy feeling.

The smiling couple in the photo was beaming, and the love in their hearts was evident in the natural way they delved into each other’s eyes. The woman, in her simple white cocktail dress, gloves, and tiara veil, and the man in his classic black suit, were the essence of happiness. The woman, a little plump, was beautiful, with thick, silky dark hair, dark eyes, and cheeks that appeared rosy though this was not a color photo. The handsome, brown-haired man was tall and thin, perhaps feeling a little awkward, but with an air of innocence about him.

They were natural, not posed, and so photogenic. She looked longingly at the wedding photo of the man and woman, missing them both. Her parents.

I wish I had the photo to post here, but I can't find where it's saved on the computer. This is a photo of the couple some 38 years later.

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