They’ve come a long way, cameras today.
Thirty years ago, the images were grainy, occasionally blurred, even though I took serious risks to get close, dodging behind bushes, scaling towering boundary walls.
These days, even on the darkest nights, I can indulge myself from a clearing on the hillside, way off the beaten track.
I’ve an entire bedroom filled with your image. I could show you a complete record of your life, from ungainly childhood to resplendent womanhood. You’d be amazed, enthralled… captivated probably.
But if I did, I’d have to kill you.
Just as I did with your mother.
I love an early start to my day! Thanks to Rochelle for her hard work herding the Friday Fictioneer cats every week. I only have one to herd and I know how hard that can be.