All built and built until she was thrashing and begging, ‘What? What is to come? Make it happen? I can’t stand this anymore?’ She felt something...enter her, it was big and hard. She knew what it was but not where it came from. It pounded and pummeled and it felt so darn good. Her eyes still closed she reached out to space, to where he was and begged him to keep going. This was something she never imagined anyone could feel. These feelings and sensations that were so foreign to her, made her feel. ”“Interesting. Is he a photographer?”I followed her around the room as she put away some of the items she’d used during the lesson. “No, not professionally. But he did do his own developing, I think. He, uh, died when I was young.”She took a momentary pause in her work to size me up. “I’m sorry to hear that.”“Is there a particular camera that would be better to use?”“What have you been using to take your pictures?”For a second I wondered how she knew that I was doing any photography. Then I. More

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