God be the Solution

It was a tiny glass frame, look rather yellowish of it's old age, but still, it was well-kept and the little picture in it never was changed. Dad's hair was black and shiny back then, with his right hand safely pocketed, and his squared spectacles reflecting the light that was flashed out from the camera, his pair of eye pupils barely seen. I shift my focus to the right, my mom was so cheerful, wearing a sleeveless white top and black jeans, stylish i could say until I saw at the toes, it was slippers rather than an expected high heel or a glamorous sandal. Heh, my sis stood awkwardly beside mom, she wasn't short-sighted yet, wearing a blue blouse I recognize wearing it myself years ago, must had passed down to me. She looks really pretty by the way. And there, standing in front of everyone, being under a huge pink jacket that isn't suppose to be her size. With straight bangs, I smiled shyly. Behind, laid a tall, fountain with magnificent French buildings I reckon wa...