Dee and I rifled through a box of old photos, stopping often to stare as lives unfolded backwards. Finally we came to this one, dated 1953. I remembered my old camera and the rolls of black and white film. I remember this particular shot because it was an accidental double exposure, some kind of gasworks, somewhere, in the background. I remember the suit - from Alexander's, bespoke tailor, York. Made a nice change feom my everyday dress at the time - RAF uniform - National Service! All of my age will remember that. I remember the dark glasses and the James Dean pose. I remember the miniature golf course in Ayr where this photograph was taken. I remember the young lady who took it: Joan Wood, my wife / mother of my four children to be.
I remember being young and I recall the vague supposions of youth; all the vanities, fears and hopes. You know, about what was to come. Mostly that did not come though other, different things came, and in the main just as good.

I look at this photograph and, strangely,do not remember me.

How can that be? Different person, same mind? Whatever, I am content.

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