The Photograph

The dusty photo of the extended Jackson family sat on Jeffs shelf, one amongst many, that stared out at the living room where he and his family lived.

Jeff could never be bothered to clean the shelf, or the photos that sat there, of various people, family members and friends.

Uncle Jack was a regular visitor to the Jackson’s home, and was always a happy drunk that the family enjoyed having around.

At Xmas and Birthdays, he was always the centre of attention, and the Jacksons would just sit back in their huge armchairs and sofas and just let him rock n roll.

As he sat there with always a full glass of whisky, telling tales, fantastic stories, and family history that everyone enjoyed listening to.

Then after some years the Jacksons noticed that Uncle Jacks appearances at their festive functions started to decline little by little.

They didn’t ask him why he wasn’t coming around so much, as they didn’t want to intrude, but the photo knew, it always knew.

When Uncle Jack did appear at their home, the family noticed that he wasn’t as jovial as before, and his skin was getting pale, and eventually jaundice started to appear.

When he did appear, Jack would still always have a full glass of Scotch in his hand, and he would still tell the same stories the Jacksons’ had heard many times before, but he had started to become very repetitive with his yarns, without seeming to notice what he was saying.

The family wasn’t rude enough to mention anything, but the photo started to glow on the shelf as if it was self-cleaning itself.

Jeff had noticed this happen to the photo, the one picture that was now less dusty than the rest, and he knew what this meant but didn’t say anything to anyone.

Then one day Janice his wife got a phone call that Jeff could tell from her demeanour upset her, despite not showing any visible emotion.

When she put the phone down, she turned to Jeff and said: “That was Dorice”, Jack’s niece, “he’s died, apparently he had pancreatic cancer for the last few years”.

“He never said anything”, Jeff said, secretly knowing that something was going to happen to him.

“I know”, Janice replied, “it was obviously the drink, he liked Scotch a bit more than us English I think “. 

Jeff comforted Janice until his arms hurt from holding her too much and gave her a loving kiss.

“He was a great bloke”, he replied, and walked off into the living room.

He made sure no one was in there with him and went over to the shelf of photographs where no one else ever bothered to look.

He found the family photo that was now dust free compared to the others around it and picked it up.

In the photo of the Jackson family, where grandparents and deceased relatives stood, there was now a new addition to the picture.

In the row of deceased Jackson family members, Uncle Jack now stood at the end of the line, his big jovial smile on his face, and of course a big glass of Whisky in his hand. 

Jeff smiled, and the now clean, glowing picture now seemed to smile back and Jeff placed it back on the shelf half happily, wondering who the next Jackson family member would appear in it.

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