uncle alfred

the only photograph of him that exists. taken in a studio on the square, the year before he went away, two years before the war, five years before the news. he is nineteen. the collar is rented with the photograph; the moustache is his own and not yet quite a moustache.

he was, by every account, the kindest of the three brothers, and the funniest, and the one who knew what to say at funerals. he knew this because he had been told so by his mother, and he believed her, which was the kind of person he was.

field-note the photograph came back to the family in 1923 in an envelope from the studio, which had been clearing its plates. he is the uncle in the dining room. he has been the uncle in the dining room since before any of us were born.

portrait portraits the brother the grave a lost photograph