REVISITING OLD FAVOURITES

He felt a slight quiver. But there was no one else in the room at that moment — no curious eyes to confirm whether his hands were truly trembling.

He carefully balanced the heavy photo album on his lap, whipped out his smartphone, and tried to capture a shot of the 'happy family photograph' that was smiling back at him.

A flurry of camera adjustments and shaky attempts at stillness — despite the autofocus—turned a simple task into a three-minute ordeal.

He studied the latest snapshot. It was a grainy family portrait clicked at a neighbourhood photo studio back in 1985.

His parents sat at the centre — father on the right, mother to his left.

Two children completed the frame. His four-year-old sister was nestled in their mother’s lap, while his six-year-old self was perched awkwardly on his father’s knee.

And then he saw it. A toy fire-truck — his beloved "fire-chuck" — dangling precariously from his left index finger.

When he was finally satisfied with the shot, he began thumbing through his apps, searching for the one he had installed three days ago.

The same AI app that promised to "bring your old pixeled memories to life.”

He found the app, scrolled it to find the correct feature, and uploaded the image.

He then waited, eyes fixed on the screen as the pixels began to twitch.

It took a few seconds before everything started coming to life.

His mother blinked. His father adjusted his glasses. Both shifted stiffly, hiding their scowls as they settled into slightly less uncomfortable poses on clumsy plastic stools.

The children wore sullen expressions, stretching their mouths into forced smiles. They knew better than to upset daddy.

At some point, the father half stood, readjusting. As he dropped back onto the stool, the boy flinched.

The fire-truck hit the floor with a soft thud. His father’s hand rose with a louder one.

Outside the phone, his now much older father hobbled in from another room.

"Hey buddy!", he smiled, "All good?"

“Yeah, Dad…” he replied, voice tight. He grimaced, raising the photo album to shield his face. “…just revisiting some old favourites.”

A part of him hoped that Daddy had seen him fighting back the tears.

Written to share with Poets and Storytellers United for Friday Writings Prompt #195: Revisiting Old Favourites.