April began to thumb through the book.  It was full of a lot of photos.  Some were black and white.  A lot were that funny kind of color film that they used in the 70’s.  Most were just shots of Sandy’s Aunt with friends.  Little notes were scribbled everywhere in the margins.  The rain began to beat softly on the bedroom window.  It was a funny kind of storm.  Most Nor’ Easter’s were all sound and fury.  This one almost sounded gentle, with only an occasional forceful gust of wind driven rain beating upon the window pane.
 

     April stopped at one page in particular.  She stared hard at it.
 

     “What is it,” Sandy asked?  She put down the scrapbook of poetry she was looking at and slid over next to April to see what she was looking at.  It was a photo of Sandra’s Aunt Penny with a woman she had never seen before.  They both looked quite young;  early twenties or so.
 

     “It’s my Aunt Melissa,”  April said,  somewhat taken aback.  “Boy, she looks young.”
 

     “I didn’t know that my Aunt knew yours,”  Sandy said.  “Small world... huh.”  The girls looked at each other but there was nothing to say.  Outside of Sandy’s barely opened door could be heard the muted sounds of a sitcom’s laugh track.
 

     “What were you reading, “  April asked?  Sandy slid back to her other scrapbook.  She picked it up and handed it to April.
 

     “Its my Aunt’s book of poetry.  I think she wrote most of it herself,  but there are some other’s handwriting here and there,”  Sandy said.  Sandy briefly twirled her honey blonde hair and this reminded April of her run-in with Courtney and her gang this morning.
 

     “What are you thinking about,”  Sandy asked.