the muck

"There's something dead in there," she said, pointing to the manufactured stream.

"I'm not going to take a picture of a floating dead thing. Unless you want dead things in your wedding album," the photographer said and snapped a picture of the bride pointing to the muck. "We should probably go. Don't you need to get married?"

The bride laughed, peered in again, and continued on her way to the ceremony. She lifted her skirt to save it from the pool water, turned to the photographer and grinned. She turned back again and took another step. "I'm getting married," she said.

"It's about time," said the photographer and briefly moved her camera away from her eye to smile back at the bride.

soar

He stood on the rail as he had many times before. He looked out over the churning water. He crossed himself. He looked at the surf and waited for the perfect moment. He crossed himself again, just for good measure. He knew the time was almost right. As he had know many times before. He took a deep breath, and stepped to the edge. The wave crashed against the rocks and he spread his arms and leaped.

She stood by the curb with her camera in hand. She knew he was about to leap. She had just given him 150 pesos for his trouble, thank you very much. "I can't believe I just gave this guy twelve bucks to die," she thought.

But she knew, as well as he did, that he was not going to die. He had done this countless times before and still had survived. Maybe he had come close. That's why he crossed himself. Just in case.

As he leaped, she took shot after shot. She was determined to get her 150 pesos worth.

And at the same time that he was free falling into the shallow abyss, she was insanely jealous. To have that abandon is something she longed for.

But she would have to content herself with the photographer's curse. To never be in the action, but always behind the camera, shooting the action. Never to soar, always with feet planted firmly on the ground.

She would not trade it for the world.

this photograph was taken from you - 2

They looked into the camera and smiled. Each mouth slightly open. Teeth bared. Eyelids crinkled. The truth in happiness. The truth in love and laughter.

But people smile for cameras all the time. And we are smiling at a camera in this one. In one instant two flashes blaze. One, your camera, capturing us as we grin at you. The other, my camera, capturing us as we smirk at you. 

I took this photograph from you. Though I am in the photograph. For it wasn't your camera taking the picture, but my camera taking the truth. From you.

this photograph was taken from you - 1

This photograph was taken of you.

No.

This photograph was taken from you.

I took this photograph from you.

I did not steal it from your hands, but rather from your soul.

You do not know me. And I do not know you. 

But I took this photograph. 

From you.

You look happy. You are laughing. But we know better, don't we?

Perhaps if I had lifted my camera in the next moment or even the one before, you would have been pensive.

You would have been angry.

You would have been crying.

This is your moment.

Stolen.

Your stolen moment.

Mine. 

My stolen moment.

From you.

Sad Clown

You think I'm not sad, but you're wrong. Can't you see this tear? But really you shouldn't crave my sadness. Do you know how I really feel? Proud. I'm proud that you made it--even through all the pain and sorrow. Through the close calls and near misses. I'm proud of what you have become and look forward to seeing how you grow. Forget my sadness. You can have my pride.

Enough mushiness. I'm turning the music on. Go back to dancing your sad little dance.

Is this it?

As she placed the final flower in her hair she considered how she got to this moment. Her list was nearly complete. Graduate from high school—check. Go to college—check. Graduate from college with a boyfriend—check. Get married— Have a baby— In that order. Is this really what life is all about? What would she be missing?

She turned back to the mirror. Flower in one hand, hairpin in the other. Is? Perfectly curled tendril. This? Flower placed. It? Pin secured.

She took another look. Perfect hair with perfect flowers. Perfect white dress buttoned up the back. Professional makeup and dainty silver sandals. She heard the voices, felt the expectations. Is this it?

Her hand reached for the doorknob, her heels clicked down the hall. She turned once more and glanced behind her. Is this it?

he drowned in hopelessness

He stood on the embankment and wondered if it was all worth it. The destruction, the endless sorrow and pain. He watched her from afar. As she appeared over the ridge and made her way toward him, his heart rose. She glanced his way and continued walking. He drowned in hopelessness.