I don’t know why I always feel like I do when I look at the picture. I’ll sit there for what feels like hours, holding it in my hands, curled up at the end of the couch, gazing at the fading, sun-bleached image on the curling photographic paper. The picture doesn’t conjure up any clear memories, but that doesn’t count for much nowadays, not since…

The feeling unnerves me, gives me this nagging doubt that I’ve forgotten something important, something I had to do, but as for what that thing might be? It’s lost to the dim and distant past, lurking in the pea soup fog of my mind. I’ve tried everything to dislodge the memory, a stack of self-help and “improve your brain” books leaning drunkenly against the coffee table attesting to my attempts. I’ve looked for other photos, but none I’ve found have captured anything like this image, its uniqueness in my visual history only adding to my nagging self-doubt.

There’s only one thing I can do now. I must reach out and see if anyone else knows what this image means.