I still take pictures. I search through image after image, thinking about what the photographs of this new life might mean, struggling to find a fitting place to re-start. Of course there are threads in the discontinuity that stitch the past to the present; many more things are the same than different. But I have lost my footing. My shoes are new, and haven’t yet been broken in.
Telegrams with a limited number of words, sent slower and cheaper than a regular telegram.