Before Our Big Fight He Was Looking at A Photograph

On this one, he carries his firstborn on his right arm. She wears a tiny dress. She holds his neck tightly with both hands and tries to smile. On the other arm, his son roosts. Staring directly at the camera, he pouts. His overgrown hair combed to the left to show his face, and his right hand placed lightly over his father's shoulder. A bright scarlet tie hangs under his still unblemished face, separating the two children. He does his best to stay standing as the photographer raises a finger. Beside him, his young and beautiful wife looks under the swaddle. She maintains a smile as she cradles the lump of joy in her arms. Curling its eyebrows briefly while its eyes are still shut, it almost breaks into a cry. She sways slightly from side to side to rock it back to sleep as she brings her gaze in front.

There is a certain hue of brightness in this one. A brightness as if nothing in the world could ever break. A brightness he knew the moment he picked it up, he has forgotten.