That card game at the shop entrance—twenty years, not a single photo

There's a folding table at my shop entrance. Four guys, rain or shine for twenty years. One of them is gone now, and that stool sits empty. Nobody ever took a picture—figured what's worth shooting? Then you realize there's plenty worth shooting: those hands, that enamel mug, the fan, cigarette butts on the ground. Old Zhou saved it on his phone, said he'd show his grandson when he grows up.