Even the most shortest, most insignificant story is still a story. It's absolutely impossible for a picture to not have a story.
Even though most hate taking them, pictures are invaluable. Life does slow down for a picture. It's like creating a shortcut to a memory. You might not actively be able to recall a story until you see the picture that jolts electricity through you brain.
Like this picture for instance. At first glance, this is a nice posed picture of me and grandma on my high-school graduation day. But this picture tells so much more.
This picture tells of a time when I still had limited responsibility. I was living a quiet, and at the time, boring white suburban life. Hell, there's even an American flag waving in the background. Doesn't get much more 1950s than that.
This is literally one of the last pictures of me before I was fully thrusted into the adult world. (This might even be one of the last pictures of me with hair.) Had you of asked me then what I thought about life, I probably would've complained. "No one understands me, I hate St. Charles, I want to burn Missouri to the ground, I'm going inside to play Playstation!"
If you ask me now what I think of this picture, the first thing that comes to mind is a blanket. A nice, comfortable place for me to live. A magical piece of fabric that protects me from monsters, keeps me warm, and can be used as a fort. That's how I look back on life then.
And the craziest thing is, hundreds of years from now, someone is going to be staring at their future hologram screen at this picture thinking, "Life was rough back then."
If only they knew...