When I was just a boy, I could often be found pouring over the family photograph albums or at garage sales buying fotos of the dead I would never know.  I liked to wonder whatever became of them.  I like to wonder what their lives were like and it always saddened me some that their fotos were forgotten, that their one and only precious life was now reduced to a paper photograph that somebody like me could find at a garage sale, a flea market, a thrift store, any second-hand shoppe and sometimes even in the garages of old mechanics.  Someday,  fotos of my little childhood with my small and dear Mother will drift out into the world, to catch flame in trashcan, to be dumped off at a thrift store, to be sent to slaughter at the landfill somewhere in the bowels of America.  All my memories of this little life that began with my Dad, my Mother and me.  Funny little forgotten postcards in some charity ghost market, these fotos that never show the strain or the tears and only the smiles we would quickly come to lose…

German boy – found last week for 5 euros at the outdoors ghost market.