The Fifth Photograph
The Game It was 3:00 am on the morning after Halloween. Mike rode his Harley out of town along the deserted back roads. He let his mind wander, and imagined what it would have been like for her. “This isn’t supposed to happen,” she would have thought at first, in mild surprise. Something must be stuck or broken. Blinded by the flash of the camera, she would have been unable to focus enough to see his reaction or identify the problem. He could clearly see her reaction, though, and it sent chills through him as he continued to capture her experience with his lens. ...