Word count: 278 | Completed:Yes | Style: Introspective

Finding the film was always difficult. The government had taken all of the good film to help with the war effort. Leonard was very proud that he had managed to scrounge a roll, even though it was low quality. Of course, he was too new to ‘proper’ photography to know it was bad film.

His family camera was a large, ungainly thing, with dark wooden paneling and mysterious mechanisms inside. Leonard let his father load the film; he didn’t want to break the camera as it would be even harder to find a camera than it was to find the film.

His grandfather begrudgingly stood still as Leonard carefully positioned the shot, being sure not to let too much light into the lens. Squinting into the viewfinder, the usual sensation swamped him. He felt a million ideas a thousand different ways to approach the shot swarm through his mind. But he knew that his grandfather wanted a simple frontal portrait.

And so he took the picture that, over sixty years later, would sit on the desk of his very own photography workshop. Proudly framed, it would be right next to the countdown clock that would tick down the minutes actuarial tables said he had to live. But, of course, when he took that photo he had only one dream for the future. Not photography. He wanted to be an actor, not a commercial photographer, bound to taking photos of cars and boxes of serial.

Sixty years later, he walks into his studio and checks his countdown clock. 5000 days to go. His grandfather glares out of the aged photographic paper, reminding Leonard he’s got a lifetime behind him.

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