Comparison.
On the eighth day, my mom suggested we go for a short drive.
As we drove, sunlight fell across my face.
I opened the camera on my phone.
Normally, I would take ten or twenty pictures before finding one I liked.
That day, I took only one.
When I opened it, I simply stared at the screen for several seconds.
“What happened?” my mother asked.
I handed her the phone.
She looked at the picture.
Then she looked at me.
“You’re smiling.”
I hadn’t noticed.
It was only a small smile.
But for the first time, I hadn’t been thinking about which side of my face I needed to hide.
On the ninth day, I found one of the photos taken the day before everything began.
I placed the new picture beside it.
I stared at the two of them for a long time.
The difference was already obvious.
