"Sometimes I imagine myself in the family photos of people I used to know. I picture families lingering over albums in the faraway future, someone leaning over someone else’s shoulder, pointing at me, asking, Who was that? They hold the photo closer and squint. It’s a touch blurry. I’m perched on a couch with a plate of lasagna or Christmas cookies. Or standing in row two of a group shot, next to an uncle or next-door-neighbor. The first person replies, 'I think she was someone’s girlfriend. Or did she lifeguard that summer at the pool?'"