I put a postcard in the mail today. Just now, actually. Then I glued some black and white pictures in a notebook. They're some of the last photos I developed myself, four or five years ago. Then I began a fresh roll. After debating the merits of color with my father for months, he pulled the trump card and gave me ten rolls of black and white film and all his developing equipment. How does one say no to that?

. . .

Jenna, by me.

Me, by Jenna.

I've known her longer and seen her less than almost anybody. We had both just chopped off all our hair. That night we slept outside and watched shooting stars. No one had mentioned a meteor shower, but there they were.