currently reading: White Noise by Don DeLilllo
"in a stack of material i found some family photo albums, one or two of them at least fifty years old. i took them up to the bedroom. we spent hours going through them, sitting up in bed. children wincing in the sun, women in sun hats, men shading their eyes from the glare as if the past possessed some quality of light we no longer experience, a sunday dazzle that caused people in their churchgoing clothes to tighten their faces and stand at an angle to the future, somewhat averted it seemed, wearing fixed and finedrawn smiles, skeptical of something in the nature of the box camera."