10.18.25

That is to say, I remember. Last fall M and I took the train upstate. When we got off the train it started snowing; the first snow of the season. I watched one snow flake land on my hand, then two. It was so cold that night I couldn't sleep. Even before then the words were leaving me. When I close my eyes I see my father and his lover. She's dyeing his white hair black and he has a serious expression on his face. It's warm in the room with them, even though it's raining outside. I raise my camera and ask them to smile. She turns away, shy. He looks up at me, expression unchanging. 

This is to say living is a choice. This is to say nothing at all. Living is more than a matter of belief. Thank you.