It was sad hearing about the divorce, it was sad moving into this lonely house, but the saddest moment came when I found out the picture frames on the living room wall still had the fakey photo inserts they come with when you buy them. You know the ones: not-quite-sexy women staring down the camera while their giant 1980s hair blocks out the scenery behind them, annoying families enjoying a tinseled-out holiday, etc. The offenders in this instance are black and white snapshots of France and the Eiffel Tower.
How unhappy must they have been not to even put their own pictures on display?
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