Reflecting on days gone by was usually a happy thing for her, but the part of her life this letter was forcing her to relive wasn’t quite as welcoming. It’s funny how the mind can be selective in its archiving of memories. The next day, with a little nudge in the right direction, she stepped into the rundown shed behind her house. It was the keeper of all things she’d tried to forget, so she normally avoided it at all costs. She began digging through boxes of photos and keepsakes. It wasn’t long before she was holding the only photograph of her with Alma. For most people who considered themselves lifelong friends, there were albums full of pictures. But this solitary frozen moment in time was the only photographic proof of their friendship. Brushing off the dust, Betty pushed her glasses up on her nose and inspected it. She hadn’t looked at the photo in ages. Shockingly, it was well-preserved, still holding most of its vibrant color.
