Day 99: Empty squares

There’s a home, of course, and it’s always evening, the lamps giving off a warm glow. Must be Sunday, because I’m returning from something that has me in shirt and tie. My wife and I kiss, and there’s a dish towel in her hand — so I ditch my tie and work beside her. Vague kids making benevolent noise in the background.

Another: the two of us lying together in bed, post-coital, talking of our day and our family, of our dreams and of what the Lord would have us do. And when we drift to sleep, it’s with a sure knowledge that we’re doing our best, that God can’t help but see that.

Polaroid snapshots. They were always there to flip through, whenever I needed their promise. My biggest fear that one day they’d fade — just reverse-expose — and what would I do then with all these stacks of empty squares?

(This is Day 99 of a 100-day project. For more about When I Was Mormon, read the introductory post. To access older posts, visit latest stories and scroll down.)