All we know from this artifact is that this family took one pretty picture together on one fine fall day in 1991 or ’92. That they stood together and wore crisp blue jeans and clean white blouses. That they smiled, heads straight or crooked. See the family. Savor them. Soon, they will be destroyed. They will destroy each other. They will destroy themselves. The world or fate or mysteries untold will destroy them in a little while, for the boy needs to travel most of this journey alone—and if he does not need to (which, as the boy, would be my argument), then he will anyway. Not yet.
