(Flash Fiction) Photography

Image credit: donatas1205/Shutterstock.com

Image credit: donatas1205/Shutterstock.com

He would show up in my photography. At first it was so indistinct I just thought I had some flaw in the digital camera. I almost went back to the shop with it, but initially  his image came and went. It wasn’t ubiquitous, so I hoped for the best.

But over time it became clearer. It was a face. A man’s face. Superimposed across whatever I was trying to capture, I captured him instead. Always him.

I didn’t recognise him. He meant nothing to me that I could name or understand. Yet he was there, insistent and silent in his presence.

Can a ghost haunt a camera? Is that possible, and if so, why?

Made no sense, beyond the fact that I regularly took still photography of models, including men. So the subject matter, in a way, might have called to the ghost. But still, why me?

Over time it became frustrating. Photography is my career, it’s how I make my living. So this was a cruel joke from the universe, spoiling so much of my product. I was starting to get a reputation around town, the kind you don’t want. I was starting to lose customers, and that was hurting, really hurting – both my bank balance and me.

Then one day he came in for a portrait. And I knew, immediately, it was him. It was the ghost. Same facial structure. I notice things like that. It’s what makes me a good photographer.

So I asked him – politely at first –  what his game was. I asked him to let me into the joke. He pretended like he didn’t know but I could see he was laughing inwardly. I demanded he tell me how it was done. But then he laughed outwardly at me and said I was mad.

That was it. I snapped. I will admit. I don’t remember starting the fight. I certainly don’t remember grabbing the heavy vase from the sideboard and hitting with it. I barely remember him falling, or the blood, or the loss of life.

I just remember photographing him, then, afterwards, laughing hysterically. Because, you see, it was all true now. He was my ghost.

And I guess he always was…

(c) Helen M Valentina 2016

About helenvalentina

Like most people, I have a number of sides to me. The most interesting one probably emerges through my writing, hence this blog. I love to read, and also to write, and so this is a way to share both.
This entry was posted in Horror Flash Fiction and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to (Flash Fiction) Photography

  1. inkbiotic says:

    Great story!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Solothefirst says:

    Oooo really good Helen.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. How do those prison photos look? Nice one Helen.

    Liked by 1 person

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