She walked in with a shit-eating grin on her angelic face. This woman, however, was no angel by any stretch of the imagination. This was Brianna, a photographer’s assistant.
She gets paid to photograph people in their homes doing what we don’t really want people to see. She sees this behavior as being for the good of humanity because society is so caught up in taboos and social stigma. She sees the camera as being the ultimate tool for showing us reality as it is, not how we want it to be. She views it as a better reflector than a mirror when it comes to viewing ones soul. She could also be seen as your basic perv.
I’ve known her ever since I moved here. She always comes to hang out and to catch up on the local gossip. She saw this place as the deep, dark underbelly of the city and she wanted to scratch it.
The local talent was breathing into the open microphone as the barrista yelled at someone in the telephone. The breathing led to something about a bicycle tire with green fur on it. I took my drink outside for a little air...
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