In the top cupboard there is a tatty cardboard box with seven or eight photograph albums. They would gather dust but the cupboard is rarely opened so really they are quite pristine. Inside them is the truncated history of childhood, cut off untimely by a parting of the ways. Never much one for posed pictures they tell a tale of wild activity, every day life captured on the go. But togetherness is ubiquitous. Change over time should be a natural process, separation inevitable, but the abrupt ending and the last empty pages reminds too strongly of what has been lost.
(Linking back to the A to Z challenge)