Shanwan Photo Studio, One Extra Frame of Film Was Taken

When I returned to my hometown to take over my grandfather's old photo studio, I discovered that every roll of film ended up with an extra frame out of thin air. Among the extra photos, there are the seamstress who disappeared on the mountain road in 1987, an old bicycle that sank at the bottom of the reservoir, and a half-thimble that had been buried under the roots of a locust tree for thirty years. In the iron cabinet that Grandpa had locked for his whole life, half of the diary was filled with traces of erasures, full of old things that people in Shanwan dared not mention again. Every time I develop a photo, a piece of truth rots in the soil and slowly wakes up in the developer.