Although my dad didn't come home for a long time, my sister and I didn't think it was a big deal.
Because it's always been like that.
Then one day, I was led by my mother to visit the prison.
I had to pass through several large doors to meet his father.
His face didn't change much from usual.
He thought he would lie down comfortably inside.
Her mother, on the other hand, became increasingly gaunt as she tried to deal with the problems her father had caused.
When I looked at my mom, I couldn't understand anything.
After the second visit, I walked around the outside of the prison and started taking pictures.
Like shooting a gun.
