It's always good to revert to a bit of scribbling, on a copy of a copy of an old photo that was already scribbled on. This used to be my favourite photo, it still is. The oldest and the youngest, standing between the kitchen and the family room. I was fifteen and she was a baby. I was about to grow up; so was she. Mum's new house doesn't have a family room, the kitchen cupboards aren't ugly green. There's her highchair, I'm wearing that hoodie I loved. The way we were won't change (love) the way we were won't stay the same (here).
