That pile of twisted wreckage told me, in no uncertain terms: There is no Normal Again.
The wreckage showed me everything had changed.
The wreckage showed me it was just more of the same.
The writer had no objection.
A man takes a picture of two people cooking.
There is only one man shown, and he is asleep under a tree.
The horse or bronco is working properly.
A woman is near a doorway.
Nobody wants to deal with Frank Capra.