You like the photographs?  I’m glad.  I should really bring them out more; it’s no use for them to sit here collecting dust.  Which one do you have there?

Oh, that’s one of my favorites.  No, I don’t think it’s a fake.  If it is, then I suppose my memory is just as unreliable as my husband says it is.  I remember that woman.  Daphne, her name was.  Or was it Dorothy?  

Forgive me, it was so long ago.  I was but a child, you can see that much in the photograph.  Come to think of it, I can’t even remember who took the picture.  

But, no, don’t listen to my husband, I do remember most of the story.  And I think it was Daphne.  Daphne came to visit every night at midnight.  Her blackberry hair was always worn long and loose like that, and I think that frilly dressing gown you see here was her favorite.

Yes, she could fly!  I told you it wasn’t a fake, didn’t I?  She was a fairy princess.  No, I am serious!  She told me so.  Yes, I believe her.  How else would you explain that photograph?

She was always so kind to me.  

“Would you like to hear a lullaby, Agnes?” she would ask me.  And I would say yes, and she would sing the most beautiful melody.  “Hush little baby, don’t say a word…”

What’s that?  Oh, yes, that’s odd.  I don’t remember that stain on her dress.  Maybe my memory isn’t as sharp as I thought.  No, I’m sure it’s just red wine… or paint perhaps?  She did seem like the type to love painting.  Always singing.

Well.  Shall we look at the other photographs then?