Frame.

A short and sad story.

I still look at that picture. It sits absently on my dresser, casting a shadow over my other things. It's frame is intricately carved. Wooden and antique-looking, one could trace it with their fingertips and feel the smooth edges and patterns. The delicate etchings of flowers and budding life sends shivers down your spine as you lazily drag your fingers across it, turbulently rising and falling with each variation in height. Even to this day, I still think of the frame as a marvel of the human ability... though it's interior was secretly clear plastic and it's exterior pressed into a mold and shifted in appearance with chemicals. Regardless, it was a gift. Gifts are a whole new dimension of respect especially when the giver is someone so important to you. The picture itself is haunting. The two of us stand there, smiling. Why am I smiling? Why is she? Her face had always been pale, like that of a ghost. Her black hair fell into her face and defined her features... if she had any. To me, her face was now blank. A blip on the glossy paper. Dead. My face was now empty in this picture. Now lacking all meaning and appropriate form. A smile? Why? You're dead. We shouldn't be smiling. I re-imagine the picture. Your figure is now gone. I am alone. That cute top I was wearing that you gave me? Replaced by the baggy and drowning tee that is currently on my person. Everything that reminds me of you has been forcefully melted away. All that remains is this frame.

Reviews

[Dan Ryoma]

You saying that your face was empty seemed a bit repetitive because you referred to the other girl's face as blank. Also, saying that your tee is on your person seems a bit misleading and cold. I understand the necessity of making your current self seem as emotionless and missing as the person in the picture, but the reader should feel something when hearing that and using person seems to detract from it. Other than that I really liked it. I could feel what you felt when you stared at that photo from your writing. I also thought you described the odd combination of anger and mourning well.

[Mason]

I did enjoy this. Your contrast of then and now was done well. I saw a comparison between her face being blank and yours; empty. Her death had dragged away that smile. It took everything but that frame. The "baggy and drowning tee" reminds me of someone hunched over and crying, and also serves to symbolize that "melting away."