The Picture
Each day the sun creeps up the wall to reveal their gleaming eyes and joyful smiles. And each night the moon takes up shift to stand watch over their seemingly eternal happiness. But all the while the people just pass by, just going on with their daily lives unaware of the smiles that whisper of memories past. This night seemed to be no different. Except for one little girl. Standing silently beneath the picture her little hand stretched out through the night, a glimmer in her eye, gently brushes a bit of dust from the tarnished frame.
And smiles with the memory.
And smiles with the memory.