Uncaptured

Adjusting the lens – adjusting some more. This picture has to be perfect. I worked really hard to land a job in this studio. I don't want one picture to go wrong. She goes to the girl sitting on the stool,fixates her fingers on either side of her face, and tilts slightly to the right.

Behind her camera, she peeps through the lens. “ You guys look great, now look into each others' eyes and smile.” Click. Flash. The three of them are happy. A moment of happiness has been captured. Time has been enframed ,in this picture,forever.

In the small waiting area in the studio, she waits for other customers to show up. A smile appears on her face as though it doesn't belong to her. She thinks of how ironic her job is,considering. People come here on their official bad hair day, with bushy eyebrows and custard yellow teeth wanting their picture taken. A good one that is. And she still manages to do it.

She sits them down, makes small talk, makes them smile and then takes their picture. She later looks at the pictures and thinks they could've at least taken a shower before they came in. Despite all, she patiently edits, she patiently breathes in and out , until the pictures are exactly how she wants them. If it isn't perfection in the picture,then at least happiness is. She stares into the mirror across from her, and witnesses tears of guilt stream down her face. Strangers. I do this for pure strangers.

She opens the door to her apartment,it's dead quiet. They're probably on the roof or something. She notices the furniture in the reception has been moved around, and the vases and antiques are randomly placed on the tables. She then remembers her mom was talking about sprucing it up a bit. Joy does need to be let back in the house- or they could at least try. She also remembers that she isn't the least bit interested in helping her mom.

One week later, the reception looks as if it has been truly-renovated. Carpets cleaned,furniture polished, all sorts of antiques and souvenirs tastefully- placed on the tables. The walls in the house were never plain though ; the old paintings were removed and new ones were hung instead. Yet, with no familiar faces within the frames,nothing has really changed.