My two canvas tote bags sat on the edge of the narrow staged bed.

I smoothed down the front of my dark blue wool cardigan and buttoned the horn buttons against the chill in the room.

On the small wooden nightstand sat the framed high school graduation photograph of eighteen-year-old Mark in his blue cap and gown.

I picked up the silver frame.

The glass was clear, catching the pale sunlight from the window.

I turned it over in my hands, remembering the afternoon I had bought the frame at the department store downtown thirty years ago.