The Photograph
Jannelle smiled at Harry, her teeth perfect and white, eyes clear and blue. Sunshine set fire to the highlights in her hair, a beautiful moment on a perfect day. He smiled back at her and returned to cleaning his camera, his eye catching his aged reflection in a nearby mirror. His skin hung like a silk shirt in need of ironing, wrinkled, pale and delicate. His eyes sparkled back at him.
A press on a button and a firm twist and the lens popped off. Minuscule flecks of dust showed up in the lamplight like tiny stars against the clear, dark glass. Meticulously, he swabbed the lens with a lintless q-tip and some cleaning fluid. With a lint-free microfiber cloth, he gently wiped away the excess. The smears of fluid dried and disappeared completely. Harry smiled in satisfaction and covered the back of the lens.
With the same care and attention to detail he removed dust from the inside of the camera and other optics before reassembling it all.
Time passed too quickly for Harry. Life was a series of perfect moments. Blink and they disappear into the past, never to be lived again. He loved his craft. He looked back up at Jannelle and winked. Her smile never faded, she never aged, and the light in her eyes said “Here is life... here is happiness.” He took the picture years ago, but it was as if it were now... right now.
He grunted and rose from his bench, slinging the camera strap over his head. His knees complained and he considered that perhaps it was time to get a new chair, one of those fancy adjustable-height ones. He shrugged inwardly, 50 bucks is 50 bucks. He picked up his hat and wandered out the front door, careful to lock it behind him.
The sidewalk spoke to him of the passage of time. Newly poured concrete immediately followed cracked and irregular old sections. His feet found it difficult to navigate at times, his toe or heel catching on the unlevel surface. He tripped and fell forward, catching himself against a lamp post. He cradled the camera to him and barely missed smashing it between his gut and the post's cold metal. Harry swore uncharacteristically, and looked around to see if anyone heard or was offended. He was alone, the camera was fine. He took a moment to rub his forehead where he'd hit it and continued on.
Block after city block passed under his feet as he made his slow, shuffling way to the park. The sun was right today, it was mid-morning and the shadows would be gentle. There'll be lots of young people, full of life and energy. He smiled. His hugged the camera to him. He loved his craft.
A worn crosswalk led him to the park entrance. The wrought-iron fence and knee-high brick wall bounded the park's entire 40 acres. Harry knew the park inside and out, he'd walked it many times. Old trees greeted him like old friends he knew when they were saplings. They carried scars, as did he.
His hand found a familiar knot on an old oak tree and gently caressed it. He smiled and continued along the path. Red paving bricks still lead visitors along a curvy trail through the park. At one point someone had lobbied to replace the bricks with asphalt, but there was a lot of community uproar and the idea was squashed. A large pond sat in the middle, complete with benches and geese crapped all over everything when they came through on their way south for winter.
He crossed a worn, white bridge, to the clearing and smiled at the sound of kids playing, shrieking and laughing. In all the years he'd come to the park, the laughter of children never changed, it was eternal. He frowned and dismissed the thought as it went against his personal philosophy on life.
A brightly-colored ball rolled to his feet and a dark-haired girl, no more than 10 or 11 years old ran up to him. He rolled it back to her with his toe and they shared a smile before she returned to her playmates. His hand caressed the side of his camera as he considered the moment, but the moment passed. This wasn't it. He walked on.
A young man and a woman sat on a lone bench under a shade tree. There was a sadness in her eyes and in his. Tears welled at edges of eyelids and they talked in hushed tones. Harry moved on, uncomfortable with the moment. The camera bounced quietly against his belly.
The bricks led him around a bend to a small clearing in the trees. Black-Eyed Susans crowned a small hill and the light shining through the canopy lit them afire. Harry smiled to himself. This was the place, this is where the moment would happen... soon. He picked up the camera and flicked it on, adjusting the knobs and buttons with expert familiarity. He knew exactly what to do for best effect. Sure enough, the sound of feet on the path behind him and a sniff made him turn his head.
Her eyes red and bleary, cheeks pale from crying, the young woman startled when she saw him standing with his camera.
“Its beautiful,” she gasped, when she saw the clearing and the flowers.
“Yes, it is.” Harry nodded. “But its not quite right yet... not quite perfect.”
“But what -”
“I think if you were sitting there, in the flowers, it would be perfect.” Harry smiled ingenuously and her eyes found her feet. She looked back up a shy smile on her face.
“You want to take a picture of me?”
Harry nodded, “Yes, in the moment.” He smiled again. “A flower among flowers.”
“My name's Allison... Allie.”
“Pleased to meet you, Allison. My name's Harry. Please, have a seat.”
Allison found walked to the mound and turned in embarrassment. “I've never...”
“Its ok, I have.” He reassured her, “With you right there, a little to the side, it'll be just right. You're very pretty.” She smiled and sat, kicking her shoes off. Harry smiled warmly at her and knelt, grunting. His knees complained loudly and he winced. He could see the look of concern on her face. “Its ok... when you're old like me, this happens. No worries. Okay... tilt your head just a bit.” The light wasn't quite in her eyes yet. “Just a little more, chin up...” as her chin rose, the yellow of the flowers caught and at that very moment he could see what he needed. “Perfect... smile like the princess that you are.” Allison smiled and he pressed the shutter.
Harry made his way back to the apartment, carefully watching the pavement. “Allison,” he mumbled. “A nice young lady.” Back up the stairs and into the darkroom, where he gently extracted her likeness from the cellulite and brought it to life on the photo paper. His fingers shook as her image firmed and set. He hung her up to drip dry until at last she was ready. He already had a frame and a matte prepared... and he sat Allison to rest under spotless, dust free glass. The life in her eyes shone brightly and he placed her on the mantle beside Jannelle. The skin on his hands and arms was already tightening and filling with the flush of youth... his eye fell on the mirror as years fell away.
The radio hissed from the kitchen “Still no word on the disappearance of Allison Perrazzi. Police found only her shoes and no evidence of a struggle. Foul play is suspected, but as of yet there've been no witnesses. Should you see Ms. Perrazzi please call...”
The End
Ben Adler, 2007
Jannelle smiled at Harry, her teeth perfect and white, eyes clear and blue. Sunshine set fire to the highlights in her hair, a beautiful moment on a perfect day. He smiled back at her and returned to cleaning his camera, his eye catching his aged reflection in a nearby mirror. His skin hung like a silk shirt in need of ironing, wrinkled, pale and delicate. His eyes sparkled back at him.
A press on a button and a firm twist and the lens popped off. Minuscule flecks of dust showed up in the lamplight like tiny stars against the clear, dark glass. Meticulously, he swabbed the lens with a lintless q-tip and some cleaning fluid. With a lint-free microfiber cloth, he gently wiped away the excess. The smears of fluid dried and disappeared completely. Harry smiled in satisfaction and covered the back of the lens.
With the same care and attention to detail he removed dust from the inside of the camera and other optics before reassembling it all.
Time passed too quickly for Harry. Life was a series of perfect moments. Blink and they disappear into the past, never to be lived again. He loved his craft. He looked back up at Jannelle and winked. Her smile never faded, she never aged, and the light in her eyes said “Here is life... here is happiness.” He took the picture years ago, but it was as if it were now... right now.
He grunted and rose from his bench, slinging the camera strap over his head. His knees complained and he considered that perhaps it was time to get a new chair, one of those fancy adjustable-height ones. He shrugged inwardly, 50 bucks is 50 bucks. He picked up his hat and wandered out the front door, careful to lock it behind him.
The sidewalk spoke to him of the passage of time. Newly poured concrete immediately followed cracked and irregular old sections. His feet found it difficult to navigate at times, his toe or heel catching on the unlevel surface. He tripped and fell forward, catching himself against a lamp post. He cradled the camera to him and barely missed smashing it between his gut and the post's cold metal. Harry swore uncharacteristically, and looked around to see if anyone heard or was offended. He was alone, the camera was fine. He took a moment to rub his forehead where he'd hit it and continued on.
Block after city block passed under his feet as he made his slow, shuffling way to the park. The sun was right today, it was mid-morning and the shadows would be gentle. There'll be lots of young people, full of life and energy. He smiled. His hugged the camera to him. He loved his craft.
A worn crosswalk led him to the park entrance. The wrought-iron fence and knee-high brick wall bounded the park's entire 40 acres. Harry knew the park inside and out, he'd walked it many times. Old trees greeted him like old friends he knew when they were saplings. They carried scars, as did he.
His hand found a familiar knot on an old oak tree and gently caressed it. He smiled and continued along the path. Red paving bricks still lead visitors along a curvy trail through the park. At one point someone had lobbied to replace the bricks with asphalt, but there was a lot of community uproar and the idea was squashed. A large pond sat in the middle, complete with benches and geese crapped all over everything when they came through on their way south for winter.
He crossed a worn, white bridge, to the clearing and smiled at the sound of kids playing, shrieking and laughing. In all the years he'd come to the park, the laughter of children never changed, it was eternal. He frowned and dismissed the thought as it went against his personal philosophy on life.
A brightly-colored ball rolled to his feet and a dark-haired girl, no more than 10 or 11 years old ran up to him. He rolled it back to her with his toe and they shared a smile before she returned to her playmates. His hand caressed the side of his camera as he considered the moment, but the moment passed. This wasn't it. He walked on.
A young man and a woman sat on a lone bench under a shade tree. There was a sadness in her eyes and in his. Tears welled at edges of eyelids and they talked in hushed tones. Harry moved on, uncomfortable with the moment. The camera bounced quietly against his belly.
The bricks led him around a bend to a small clearing in the trees. Black-Eyed Susans crowned a small hill and the light shining through the canopy lit them afire. Harry smiled to himself. This was the place, this is where the moment would happen... soon. He picked up the camera and flicked it on, adjusting the knobs and buttons with expert familiarity. He knew exactly what to do for best effect. Sure enough, the sound of feet on the path behind him and a sniff made him turn his head.
Her eyes red and bleary, cheeks pale from crying, the young woman startled when she saw him standing with his camera.
“Its beautiful,” she gasped, when she saw the clearing and the flowers.
“Yes, it is.” Harry nodded. “But its not quite right yet... not quite perfect.”
“But what -”
“I think if you were sitting there, in the flowers, it would be perfect.” Harry smiled ingenuously and her eyes found her feet. She looked back up a shy smile on her face.
“You want to take a picture of me?”
Harry nodded, “Yes, in the moment.” He smiled again. “A flower among flowers.”
“My name's Allison... Allie.”
“Pleased to meet you, Allison. My name's Harry. Please, have a seat.”
Allison found walked to the mound and turned in embarrassment. “I've never...”
“Its ok, I have.” He reassured her, “With you right there, a little to the side, it'll be just right. You're very pretty.” She smiled and sat, kicking her shoes off. Harry smiled warmly at her and knelt, grunting. His knees complained loudly and he winced. He could see the look of concern on her face. “Its ok... when you're old like me, this happens. No worries. Okay... tilt your head just a bit.” The light wasn't quite in her eyes yet. “Just a little more, chin up...” as her chin rose, the yellow of the flowers caught and at that very moment he could see what he needed. “Perfect... smile like the princess that you are.” Allison smiled and he pressed the shutter.
Harry made his way back to the apartment, carefully watching the pavement. “Allison,” he mumbled. “A nice young lady.” Back up the stairs and into the darkroom, where he gently extracted her likeness from the cellulite and brought it to life on the photo paper. His fingers shook as her image firmed and set. He hung her up to drip dry until at last she was ready. He already had a frame and a matte prepared... and he sat Allison to rest under spotless, dust free glass. The life in her eyes shone brightly and he placed her on the mantle beside Jannelle. The skin on his hands and arms was already tightening and filling with the flush of youth... his eye fell on the mirror as years fell away.
The radio hissed from the kitchen “Still no word on the disappearance of Allison Perrazzi. Police found only her shoes and no evidence of a struggle. Foul play is suspected, but as of yet there've been no witnesses. Should you see Ms. Perrazzi please call...”
The End
Ben Adler, 2007
