- 4.
Time was moving fast. I was packing up my
<
gear at the beach.
I fell into my instincts, knew the best angles
to bring out Mark’s good looks.
I can make any picture look flawless when
he’s in it.
All I needed was a solid base, the poses
would come easily. Hugging, kissing, gazing
into each other’s eyes.
The shoot was smooth. I was a robot, clicking
the shutter, capturing their cheesy love.
My heart was a dried–up well. No ripples, no
waves.
When we finished, they wanted to pick the
photo for the painting.
<
Tiffany scrolled through the photos. “You’re
really good Sarah. And so calm. It’s like it
doesn’t bother you at all.”
I could feel the insult in her words, but hey, it
was just work.
“I’m glad you guys like them.”
Mark and Tiffany picked a shot of them
holding hands, smiling into the sunset.
“We’ll have it as an oil painting,” said Mark.
I glanced at Mark, just for a second.
My first photo with him was the same sunset.
We were both so shy then, but it was honest
and so pure.
<
I wondered if he still had that photo.
Doesn’t matter. It has nothing to do with me
now.
I packed my equipment, hailed a cab and
went home.
After I finished the portrait, I could get the
surgery.
What would I forget? I hoped it would be him.
I didn’t want to hurt anymore.
I never wanted to think about him ever again.
