On clear nights, I like to sit outside alone. I like to park my car in the empty parking lot of the library and sit on the pavement or lie in the grass. I stare at the stars, each bringing back a different memory. Each one like a photograph, the sky a photo album. I lie in the grass and remember waiting for my parents to pick me up all those times the library closed before I left. I stand up and slowly pace the sidewalk where I made my best friend. I see bits of paper flying around in circles while we run around trying to catch them. I see us use everything we have as makeshift paperweights. I sit up and see a friend walking on the sidewalk across the street with me, talking, telling stories. I wander until I reach the entrance, I see a bike rack...I see a girl, standing there smiling and laughing...

I feel the sheer bits of paper as the crumble like the friendship that came with them. I hear the faint sound of the stories as they slowly fade like the friendship that came with them. I see someone slowly walking away for the last time as they leave with the friendship that came with them. I see books, posters, an idea for a club, math homework, friends, an iPod. I hear laughter, distressed whispering, stupid puns, depressing life stories, a final goodbye. I feel a hand, a pat on the back, a sigh of relief, the buttons of a calculator...the last page of the photo album as I reach the back cover...All of these moments so clearly defined, just like the photos in an album. Each one with a story. Each one with a deeper meaning. Each one captured by a single click...