the wind blows (3)

A man and a woman smile out of the past, their faces frozen in a moment that no longer exists. The woman wears a dress with tiny flowers, her hair tucked neatly under a hat.

The man stands tall, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder, his eyes locked on the camera with quiet confidence. There is no date, no inscription, only the image. Outside, the wind shifts. It carries with it the faint sound of laughter, distant and fleeting.

It could be a trick of the mind, an auditory illusion crafted by the unrelenting gusts. But then, a shadow moves within the house. It is quick, almost imperceptible, yet unmistakable.