I was looking at old photos of my childhood house.
We rented it out when we moved and after several years
we decided it was time to sort out the attic.
We'd never actually tidied it before, everything in there was
at least nine years old with some things coming from my
great grandparents!
The only constant was the box of "important family photos"
that my great grandfather had apparently insisted on having.
That's the album I found after about two hours of cleaning.
I remember some of these photos being taken.
It was always the same every year - put on your best suit, go to
the "sun room" as we called it and smile, then head outside and
do the exact same thing.
I'd never actually seen the photos we took, the adults at the time
had always whisked them away to the book and refused to talk
about them.
I finally understood why.
You see, the book was divided into two halves, the outside and the sun room.
From the outside in every photo you can clearly see colourless figures
peering through every window and when I say colourless I mean they
looked like an old timey photo -even in the recent pictures!
The inside, however, was different.
I hadn't realised how close they were.
How close they are.
It's so crowded.
The air is so thin I can'
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