Specks of white

I remember my mom's pics in the 1970s. They are grainy, washed out, some stained beyond repair because they are stacked together throughout the years. But they never are boring. My mind are remembering the images as I write. Imagining how they looked like, I am filled with nostalgy. Though I didn't exist then, I was transported back to that era. How it might look like, how it might feel like, how people of that time dressed, how my parents lived. What was cool then? What would I do if I lived then? How would I see my parents, in their adult life, but decades younger?

I am not even sure those images are in the 1970s, or earlier, or later. All I remembered now was the picture of my mom in her younger self, staring at me, posing for the camera. Still. No smiles were seen. People don't really smile in those old pictures. I wondered.