A Short Story

Kovo

When I was young my father gave me a camera.
It was an old camera, it only kept the black and the white.
As I got older, it was shelved and forgotten.
I grew up, and met a woman. Well, THE woman.
The woman I would later marry, though I didn't know it at the time.
I moved out at 18, packed my things, cleared my shelves, and found my past.
Specifically my camera.
Before I packed it up, we took some pictures.
She posed, I turned away, we posed, and forgot about it.
When I was 20 I stumbled across the camera again, and developed the black and white film.
As I flipped through the pictures, I came across one that struck me.
It was a picture of her smiling the way that she tends to.
It was then and there that I knew I would be with her forever.
Because even though the picture of her was black and white, it had all the color I would ever need.