(no subject)
The camera was new and small, spat out pictures that took a minute or so to develop. John knew that shaking a Polaroid had no actually effect on the speed with which it developed, but he always felt better with something to do with his hands. At home, on the wall in the loft above Omar's Bar, there are line upon line of photographs of Time Square. John knew that place like the back of his hand, like a part of him. He'd died there, once upon a time. It was the place that he'd been born. He'd watched it grow up out of nothing. He'd helped built it, in places. God, he loved that place. If Kara was the one, magic or not then New York? Well, she was his first goddamn love.
If it turned that there was a Heaven after all of this, some kind of sweet by-the-by where he'd see his mother again, and his father, and all of the people that he's loved, John hoped that it was at least a little like New York City.
All day, he'd been walking the island like a man on a mission. He'd had the camera for months but done little with it but take pictures of Calliope for Kara. What he needed was a Time Square. He'd loved it because it was always changing, but still the reference points were there. He could always see where it had started, in the photographs. Now, he just needed to find something similar on the island. Finally, he stood in front of the compound, looking down the boardwalk towards the sea, a couple of miles aaway. He could see huts through the tree, the playground, the curling rink and, in the distance, the Ferris wheel.
In terms of by-the-bys, it wasn't a bad view at all.
Finding himself smiling, John lifted his camera and took aim.
South of the Compound, May, 2009.
ooc: feel free to ruin his shot.
If it turned that there was a Heaven after all of this, some kind of sweet by-the-by where he'd see his mother again, and his father, and all of the people that he's loved, John hoped that it was at least a little like New York City.
All day, he'd been walking the island like a man on a mission. He'd had the camera for months but done little with it but take pictures of Calliope for Kara. What he needed was a Time Square. He'd loved it because it was always changing, but still the reference points were there. He could always see where it had started, in the photographs. Now, he just needed to find something similar on the island. Finally, he stood in front of the compound, looking down the boardwalk towards the sea, a couple of miles aaway. He could see huts through the tree, the playground, the curling rink and, in the distance, the Ferris wheel.
In terms of by-the-bys, it wasn't a bad view at all.
Finding himself smiling, John lifted his camera and took aim.
South of the Compound, May, 2009.
ooc: feel free to ruin his shot.