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Best in the picture
#timetravel
I come a little closer but Nico shoves the picture away from me.
"Hey!" I yell and want to snatch it, yet I don't manage.
He stares at the image, putting it up in the light coming in through an open window.
"This has to be photoshopped. There's NO WAY this is real. I mean..." he mumbles. I notice he turned pale within seconds. This cannot be good.
"What is it, weirdo?" I get impatient. I don't like not knowing what's the matter. Plus, it's not easy to be back in this room after so long. It's been two years already. It almost feels like a dream. Everything looks just the way it used to on that day. Even dad's shirt is laid out on the bed, ready to be worn. I bet it would've been too big on me. He's had some muscle as a carpenter, and I... Well, let's say I'm not exactly the sporty type.
"I don't know..."
I groan.
"Stop this, would you?"
Annoyed, I take the picture away from my brother while gracing him with an unpleasant gaze.
Then I turn away to actually have a look.
There's a park bench. Our dad sitting on it with some lady, a fountain and blooming apple trees behind them make me think it must've been spring. They're both smiling and... They're holding hands. Dad's wearing his favorite white shirt and the lady's in a sundress, her long hair put up in a bun. Which seems not to have been too cooperative with the wind on that day, because it's extremely messy. She also has a pair of sunglasses on. They're dark enough for me not to be able to see her eyes.
"What about it?" I shrug.
I think I expected some kind of catastrophe. Like dad taking part in something illegal. And him on a date with some woman hardly came off as such. He appears to be around thirty in that picture. So it was taken after our mom's death. I don't see the reason behind Nico's panicky response.
"Don't you see who that is?" He wails, clenching his hands on his forearms.
"Dad on a bench with some woman. What's so extraordinary about it?" - I'm confused, this is getting too intense for my liking.
"That woman" he repeats.
I sigh.
"She's pretty, alright."
"Oh, my God. You...
I come a little closer but Nico shoves the picture away from me.
"Hey!" I yell and want to snatch it, yet I don't manage.
He stares at the image, putting it up in the light coming in through an open window.
"This has to be photoshopped. There's NO WAY this is real. I mean..." he mumbles. I notice he turned pale within seconds. This cannot be good.
"What is it, weirdo?" I get impatient. I don't like not knowing what's the matter. Plus, it's not easy to be back in this room after so long. It's been two years already. It almost feels like a dream. Everything looks just the way it used to on that day. Even dad's shirt is laid out on the bed, ready to be worn. I bet it would've been too big on me. He's had some muscle as a carpenter, and I... Well, let's say I'm not exactly the sporty type.
"I don't know..."
I groan.
"Stop this, would you?"
Annoyed, I take the picture away from my brother while gracing him with an unpleasant gaze.
Then I turn away to actually have a look.
There's a park bench. Our dad sitting on it with some lady, a fountain and blooming apple trees behind them make me think it must've been spring. They're both smiling and... They're holding hands. Dad's wearing his favorite white shirt and the lady's in a sundress, her long hair put up in a bun. Which seems not to have been too cooperative with the wind on that day, because it's extremely messy. She also has a pair of sunglasses on. They're dark enough for me not to be able to see her eyes.
"What about it?" I shrug.
I think I expected some kind of catastrophe. Like dad taking part in something illegal. And him on a date with some woman hardly came off as such. He appears to be around thirty in that picture. So it was taken after our mom's death. I don't see the reason behind Nico's panicky response.
"Don't you see who that is?" He wails, clenching his hands on his forearms.
"Dad on a bench with some woman. What's so extraordinary about it?" - I'm confused, this is getting too intense for my liking.
"That woman" he repeats.
I sigh.
"She's pretty, alright."
"Oh, my God. You...
