”I found my way back to the place I am the most comfortable. One never goes back though. You come back by moving forward and you never truly return. It would imply you would like to time travel or rewind. (Unless there is an app for that?)

 
    It's been many years since I have been away, traveling and living in different places. New destination more promising than the other, with hopes of that new beginning solving my previous shortcomings. New ideas, ideas of other people that I stole and made my own, matured future promises, old promises made anew, starting over, clean slates, blank canvases. 

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  One day a postman delivered an old letter. Looked like it's been on the road and matured well. The destination was not legible and so the only way forward was to send it back. The group of ”return to sender” stamps was competing for attention and it was hard to know which marking was the one that made the system finally reset and revert the direction to the sender.  This must have been something I sent. Without any recollection of when, why and to whom I opened it. 

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   Inside was an old black and white photograph. Blur and fade must be a result of the years gone by, and only a fuzzy, behind a filter-like figure was looking back at me. On the bottom was a date, that feels like a lifetime away and the name of the city I was born in. 

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   There is only a feeling that comes from this photograph - a sense that this person is tall, proud, resolute, himself. I truly don’t remember. 
 

   Noticing there is writing on the back of the photograph I turned it over and with surprising clarity and a stark contrast to the opposing side, as if written yesterday or painted with oils as a master painting, there was a collection of words that simply read: “Do Not Forget”

Z.K.