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The Memory

·75 words·1 min
Flash Fiction

A rough finger runs across a grey photograph, uncertain. Another page is turned. Another photo examined. His eyes close, and a memory sparks, ushering in brilliant color to fill the empty spaces.

A camp fire on a cold morning. The sound of popping embers. The comfort of a warm metal mug. Birds singing in the morning sun, blended with familiar voices. The smell of pine.

As the memory recedes, he follows. A heart monitor flatlines.