内存条裂了缝，漏出来的是照片

One black computer memory module lies across a dark reflective surface, its row of chips unlabeled, gold contact pins catching a thin line of light along the near edge. A hairline crack splits the black casing of the central chip, and from that crack a bead of clear liquid swells and falls — a tiny photograph fragment suspended inside it. Two more droplets hang mid-fall beneath the module, each holding its own sliver of a family photo: a slice of a face, the corner of a room, a blurred arm. Where the droplets strike the surface, a shallow puddle spreads beneath the module, gathering the leaked photographs so they float and drift across the mirrored film reflecting the chips above. Soft raking light enters from the low left, lifting the wet droplet edges into bright rims and picking the chip's crack out as a fine bright line against the dark board. No letters, numbers, labels, or printed marks appear anywhere on the module, the chips, or the surface. The module sits centered in a 16:9 wide composition, low and close, with clear room below for the puddle to spread — the dark surface running evenly to every border.