"...A heater shorted and it burned almost everything I own. Because we were here for four months, I'd brought all my worldly goods with me. We saved my lyrics, crawling along the floor with wet towels around our heads. We had to make a chain and hold hands because I was the only one who knew where they were, I was the last in the chain. We got really told off by the firemen, it was like being back at school. They were saying "You're life's more important than your words" and I was like, "What do you know?". They were the only thing that was irreplaceable, I thought. The next day, I was sifting through the charred remains and I came across my wallet and it had two pictures of me and Mary - the first tow pictures we ever had taken together - and they were still there although a bit charred around the edges and I was really pleased. I genuinely felt happy about the fire, I didn't feel upset, I felt releif in a very banal way.
I realized I'm holding old pictures of things, even taken before my birth, to give me a sense that things went on.
(R. Smith)