in conclusion (the leaving) (5/52) : 無料・フリー素材/写真
in conclusion (the leaving) (5/52) / swimparallel
| ライセンス | クリエイティブ・コモンズ 表示-継承 2.1 |
|---|---|
| 説明 | Written for 52 Stories.The Georgetown air isn’t as welcoming as I remember it. The long, lazy walks that once led us here are short, silent bus rides now. We move quickly, now that we know the value of our time.I prop my chin in my hands as I watch the gas station across the street. A cop pulls up, leaves his car in front of the door, blocking the paths to the pumps and entrance; a moment later he leaves with his snack. I roll my eyes but don’t bother pointing it out to you. This is my observation; get your own.“Turn that off,” the waitress grouses in the background, and the talkshow analysis of the latest economic plunge clicks off. The shabby diner (Georgetown-shabby, not real-shabby) becomes remote (D.C.-remote, not real-remote). We are isolated here with the waitress and the cook and the man with last Sunday’s newspaper. No other problems, no other joys.It’s getting darker.“We should have stopped this sooner,” you say, and I want to be offended, but I’ve had enough dishonesty for one year, so I just nod.Our drinks are full and our hearts are empty, and the light shining through the scratched-up window isn’t making it to our eyes.“I loved you,” you say, and the past tense sends a little shock through my system, still. “Really.”“Good for you,” I answer. “What do you want, a medal?”“No.” You smile into your drink, the expression bittersweet like the chocolate you won’t be buying on February 13th, morning-of-14th. “Just something to show for it.”I shrug and slip my fingers under my coat to feel my cold, quiet heart; is it my imagination, or is it beating more slowly now that it doesn’t have to beat for two?“Have a nice life,” you say, slipping off the stool. It doesn’t sound sarcastic.“You too.” Mine does, maybe.I watch you walk out and think: I’m cold, I’m tired. But I stay here in the cold diner, listening to laughter and footsteps of the wanderers-by, I stay here with the waitress and cook and man with last Sunday’s newspaper long after you’re gone.Disclaimer: Pure fiction. |
| 撮影日 | 2009-02-07 18:29:25 |
| 撮影者 | swimparallel |
| タグ | |
| 撮影地 | Washington, District of Columbia, United States 地図 |
| カメラ | NIKON D90 , NIKON CORPORATION |
| 露出 | 0.02 sec (1/50) |
| 開放F値 | f/4.0 |
| 焦点距離 | 26 mm |