Okay. There's a picture on the wall and it gives out a glow even in this room which is well lighted. It radiates a warmth that could even give life to the dead.



The picture has no frame. It doesn't need one. But it hangs on the bare brick wall, so small that it could barely cover up a brick. It doesn't need to be big. It looks huge. In fact, I can't even see the wall anymore.

The picture is simply perfect. It looks better every time I come back to look at it. There's something about this picture that deserves my undevoted attention. The attraction is just crazy. I can't even walk away without turning back several times to have another look, afraid that I might forget how it looks like even though I know that is impossible to forget.



I'm crazy about it.

There is one big problem though. Every time I picture myself being in the picture, it doesn't seem right. I look like crap. I slouch, my shoulders droop like and overloaded clothesline, my belly hangs loose over my belt, even the colour of my hat turns to a dull shade of green.

I guess somethings are just meant to be admired from a distance.