(This is a work of semi-fiction. Names, charaters, places, and incidents are partly the product of the author's imagination or are used semi-fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is partly coincidental.)
I was at Joe's house engaged in light conversation with his sister. (We had always gotten along really well; even better than my own sister at times.) She had answered her cell, so I was noticing how the surroundings had changed since my last visit. New trinkets adorned old shelves. New shelves were constructed to house old trinkets. Pictures I had seen a million times as well as many more I had never seen. People growing older, people becoming a little bit slower, people who still had a brilliant smile because they were so absolved in their surrounding.... wait a second, I do remember that picture, but not with that same content. I stepped in for a closer look. What I saw made me giggle under my breath at first. It was a picture of Joe and me with the rocks we had found. Joe was gleaming with pride over his rocks and my rock was mysteriously floating. It must have been magic or something. I distinctly remember when that picture was taken, and it wasn't magic! I WAS HOLDING THE DANG ROCK!! But, what happened to my body? Carefully and undiscreetly removed from the picture; it was gone. (However, my fingertips were still around the rock.)
Needless to say I left Joe's sister shortly thereafter. A little hurt and perplexed by what I had seen. I guess that's what happens when people step out of other's lives....you are literally 'out of the picture.'
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