Rectitude (noun): moral integrity

There was a black-and-white photograph of two twins in the museum. The two boys depicted in the image were the same in every regard: arms of the same length, skin with the same texture, and fluffy hair that curled in identical directions on their heads.

And one of them was pointing a gun at the other.

A small caption hung to the right of the photograph, its words already worn down with time. Several seconds of skimming would enlighten to the reader of the dilemma chaining the twins to their fates: one of them committed a treason, and the other had to carry out the execution. The boy with the gun could have killed his twin, or refused and given up his own life.

There was no conclusion, no further update.

Every day, the museum would receive numerous requests from the stream of onlookers that stopped to examine the memory, asking for the ending. Was the criminal twin pardoned? Did the other twin shoot him? Or was there an unexpected miracle, where another family member rescued them both?

Yet, the audience asked for closure to a story that never finished.

The photograph itself presents the fork of a split road. The twin holding the gun would have had to choose between family and law. By committing to either action, he would solidify his values and clearly cast a line between right and wrong.

It was ironic that the photograph froze time right before this decision. It was also ironic that it was black-and-white.