It’s us sitting on a seawall.
Maybe somewhere near Waikīkī.
I don’t know.
Great photo though.
We’re both looking down and toward each other.
We’re in mid-conversation, seems like.
Remember that day?
I’m not sure who took it,
if someone was using your camera,
or if we knew the photographer,
and he or she gave us a copy once the film was developed.
You had a good camera,
the one your father brought back from Japan,
a state-of-the-art Nikon with all the lenses.
We called them snapshots back then.
I don’t know where that term came from.
No one uses it anymore.
I doubt you use that camera anymore.
Too much of a hassle to find film, I’m guessing.
And you’ve probably converted your old dark room.
Maybe into a nursery or something.
Now I use my phone.
No more worrying about making every shot count.
I suppose you must use your phone too.
It’s a great snapshot.
I didn’t realize I’d kept it.
I’m glad I did.
It reminds me so much of you.