Almost a year ago now, I bought a Canon point-and-shoot camera from my friend. It was a useful sort of thing to have around. I did take a few pictures with it, but I quickly ran across a pretty serious problem: I didn’t get the charger with it, and it didn’t take long at all before the battery ran dry. Funny thing, I have repeatedly forgotten to either go get a charger or take the camera and have it charged.
There are a lot of people out there who use photography in the same way that I use writing. Generally speaking, a good photographer will give you just as much with a photo as a writer can give you with a short story. Photography tells stories in a different way, but it, like all art, is about storytelling.
Thinking that way, you would have assumed that I would have been more keen to use a camera to help tell my stories. But I haven’t been. I haven’t been telling any stories whatsoever, and that’s a serious problem. Recently, I’ve been doing a lot to remedy this problem, and another step I’ve got to take is getting that camera working.
The funny thing is, I don’t even know if I can tell a story through a camera lens. But I need to find out.
I woke up facing the windows, enjoying what little time I have to use my entire home as sanctuary. Outside, the bright light night was subdued by the ominous cloudcover, the same that had let it out on me and my eight million neighbors just a few hours earlier.
At a stoplight, I looked over. The minivan cab next to me had two passengers occupying a single seat behind the driver.
The girl straddled her boy. She kissed away his look of surprise and glee fiercely. She started to glide back and forth across his lap, gently but firmly.
He’s going to get some when he gets home, I thought.
She didn’t want to wait.
You know what rules? Being miserable.
Wait, no, being miserable the opposite of rules. It… is subjugated? No, I’ll just go with “it sucks”.
And I will commit seppuku based on the utterly terrifying sentence structure that I have been forced to employ.
I woke up a little late, but not too late that I was going to be late. The extra few minutes of sleep were very well received by my tired body.
The sky was overcast, but the weather was as perfect as it has ever been in my world. It was raining lightly, intermittently. The temperature was as lovely as I could have asked, just right for my sweater and jacket.