You look flatter, less life-like and 3D lately in the photographs I have everywhere around the apartment.  I pick them up and stare closely because I’m surprised by this recent change.

You are a photograph.

A friend suggests to me the other day, “Maybe heaven or the afterlife isn’t a place, but a whole other dimension, like going from two dimensional to three…”  And it is as strange a concept as three dimensional would be to one who’d only experienced two, she says.

“We have a picture of Appa!” Audrey says a lot now before she goes to talk to your picture.