The Underlying and Baritones of a Well Kept Secret
What you don't know can't hurt you…. the missing story.
Prologue
A soft breeze drifted through the open windows, teasing the white curtains. It skittered through the articles thrown about the carpeted floor. Passing over the memories with an air of disinterest, its fingers flicking them off as unimportant.
But that's what they had become over the years. The photographs of people in blue and black reflected in the noonday sun. Pictures shoved into the backs of closets and swept under the bed with a firm "shh". These were the things that were never said, the tale of something no one ever knew about it. And it would stay like that until a day like this, when the elegant scrawling would be pulled out to mull over. When the stolen snippets of time would protrude from that old shoebox. When the doors were locked so this trip down memory lane would stay private. When they would remember.
A photo is picked up off the ground and a breath blown to swipe the dust off its cover, a hand following the action. There's a whirlwind of activity going on in the picture, but someone managed to catch the smirks exchanged between the two people at the forefront of the scene. And they suppose that it all began on a fateful night just like that one. The fateful night when it all became the underlying and baritones of a well kept secret…