Camera ObscuraThe camera opens like a fan, and an hourglass lens on a wooden plate fits into the front. There are brass ribs cut with channels to accept knobs meant to be tightened by nothing more strong than careful fingers. They lend architecture to the thing, standing itself up against the bellows. A cape is on it now, noisy cloth, dark on the inside and silvered without. There are clicks and scrapings from under the cloth as the focus is found, and lengths adjusted.
"Midwest photo exchange. Well worth the trip."
I do not know if there is enough light in here; I do not know how much light this needs to work, or to work well. The cloth moves, more adjustments made. Strange tools come out of bags and are held by faces to gauge and check. I wait for the snap and the whir of the image taken, when the camera will capture the intersection of this time and this place.
"I am measuring light reflected from you, not from outside."
The clock has become noisier, and the light does not change.
"Look up."
The subject stands waiting.
All content under copyright by the author. Dancing is permitted. The strange deltic glyphs in the sand under tidal flow are a pleasure to watch in their deepening. Offer not valid in Kansas. We put it down and then we lost it. It all happens in the corner of the eye. Commentary accepted at pen@goob.com, although the traps are agressive and the pointy bits simply drip with dark liquour. We have a dog, but we do not own it. Thank you.