 Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?
Ash thought (hopefully/stupidly) that it might be okay to take a picture- perhaps it would distract her from her bitter-tasting thoughts- she could tear it up after it had developed. It couldn't be that bad. So she took one of herself, leaning on the table, head in her hand, blank expression. Taking one of somebody else would be wrong. She didn't want anyone else to having a moving photo of her, and she would feel incredibly guilty about having one of anyone else. She went into the room. She put the negative into the machine. She pressed the button and waited for a few seconds. She went to go put the photo paper in the cauldron, but then she didn't. She never got the chance. The photo paper slipped from her hands and fell to the floor. She couldn't bring herself to try again. And the more she thought about it, the more she knew that she really didn't want to have this developed. She didn't want to see the picture at all. So she picked it up with one shaky hand, and... and... in a couple of swift movements, Ash tore the paper up. She put the pieces in her pocket, looking for a later time to dispose of them. Then she walked back to her spot and stayed there. Quietly. Unobtrusively. As if she had already completed the activity. Which she hadn't. The torn shreds in her pocket were proof enough of that. |