The inspiration …
A story …
It’s a tiny, dead-end space within the warren of the packed-to-the-rafters antique store. Steve proudly holds out a box, a faded-pink camera within.
“A Polaroid!”
Kristy sniffs, “And film?”
Grinning, he produces a cartridge, loads it.
The camera suddenly whirs to life, spits out a dozen pictures and dies.
The first image startles Kristy, “That’s us when we first walked in!”
“This one’s me, by the vintage clothes … You screwing around …That broken mirror…”
Steve frowns, “What’s that?”
Kristy squints, “Looks cloudy. It gets bigger in each image.”
They look up, eyes widening as one last picture finally ejects.
***********************************************
Now, your turn.
[…] Steps onto the porch and freezes. They come at him from the front and both sides. He’s already used the planter to jump up for a support. Gives the attacker coming from the right a face full of fragrant hibiscus. (They’ve already rifled the house twice seeking it.) Lands on the right side of the porch, beside the table. It’s hidden, in plain sight, disguised within a functional ’70s Polaroid. Hardly time to aim as the thugs coil to spring again. Points the Illudium Q-36 Space Modulator and fires. A pink flash later, they’re so many atoms. Seriously, Q: pink? — Thanks, Darleen! […]
We live in amazing times. No longer days for film to develop. Only sixty seconds before the picture emerges.
I took pictures of everything: you holding a daisy, you in your white dress, you pulling the cats tail and blaming your brother. So many moments captured by a pink camera with a flash on top.
But this picture, I don’t like so much. It’s wonderful yet lonesome – You in your wedding dress, walking down the aisle. So I’m giving you the camera – to make memories of your own – maybe even of a little girl standing in a white dress.
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