Oh, There Was Harm Indeed

It Is A Cruel, Ironical Art, Photography. The Dragging Of Captured Moments Into The Future; Moments That Should Have Been Allowed To Be Evaporate Into The Past; Should Exist Only In Memories, Glimpsed Through The Fog Of Events That Came After. Photographs Force Us To See People Before Their Future Weighed Them Down.

I Probably Coughed Self-pityingly In Response, Little Aware That I Was About To Cross A Tremendous Threshold Beyond Which There Would Be No Return, That In My Hands I Held An Object Whose Simple Appearance Belied Its Profound Power. All True Readers Have A Book, A Moment, Like The One I Describe, And When Mum Offered Me That Much-read Library Copy Mine Was Upon Me.

Hope's One Thing, Expectation's Quite Another.

Lil Had Always Believed That A Person's Duty Was To Make The Best Of The Hand They Were Dealt. No Use Wondering What Might Have Been, She Used To Say, All That Matters Is What Is.

...which Fairy-tale Princess Ever Chose Her Maid Over Her Prince?