Snapshot (A Short Story ) - July 22, 2001
I
The heavy rain of the previous week had softened the earth beside the road considerably. I tried to choose my steps wisely, but it was no use. The soggy ground gave way as I went, sending me careening down the hill into the ditch where the body lay.
She was on her back, naked, head (or should I say what was left of it) turned to the side, limbs frozen in a grotesque pantomime.
"Jesus, Franklin! You almost destroyed the crime scene before taking any pictures!" barked the nearest cop.
"Yes, sir."
I grabbed my camera and began to shoot.
II
There's no easy way to make a living these days. How many people do you know who actually like their jobs? Half the time you can't find work, half the time you pray work would never find you.
I sat waiting, at the cheap silver diner on the boulevard, for my next meal ticket. Dickie walked in a good hour late, with the usual look of doom.
"Shit, Rach. Have you been here long?"
"Only an hour."
"Why haven't you ordered yet?"
"Not hungry, had to sub at the medical examiner's today."
He shot me a knowing glance and slid into the booth.
"So..." I said.
"I have some bad news."
I rolled my eyes. Dickie pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered it to me.
"You know I don't smoke," I said taking one.
"Of course. Now here's the thing, Rach. There's going to be some major cutbacks at the paper. Marshall just circulated a memo about eliminating excess baggage. Basically, we're in deep shit."
"So?"
"So I can't give you anymore assignments. Not paying ones anyway."
I looked at him closely. His nostrils flared rhythmically and the large puce bags under his eyes seemed more aggravated than usual. He was such an odd duck.
"Ok then. See you around." I said, as I stood up and headed for the door. I stopped only to put out the cigarette.
III
I've always prided myself on being a resourceful girl. But I think the truth is that I'd just been lucky. I got out of school unscathed and have a piece of paper to prove it. I managed to find my way to a city I love (d), a place where my art could flourish. And I made some money along the way. As with all luck and / or resources though, mine seemed to have run out. Dissipated. Evaporated. Poof.
A knocking at my door. It's dark in my apartment. Electricity turned off days ago. If I ignore it, they might think I'm not home or maybe they'll think I'm dead. And either way, they'll go away. Knocking again, louder now. See? What did I tell you about my luck?
I peered out the peephole. Landlord. Unlock slowly.
"Ms. Franklin. I am just here to remind you that your rent was due three weeks ago. In two more days, I go to the police."
I stared. He snorted, so hard his protuberant gut heaved greatly.
"Indeed," I ventured.
He turned a little red and snorted once more, for effect.
"Indeed, Ms. Franklin."
I shut the door.
IV
Sometimes, our moments of greatest clarity come at really inopportune times. Of course, I suppose it doesn't make sense to have a life-altering epiphany when all is well. Best to change when things are in the crapper. Words to live by. You can quote me.
And so, I left.
I packed what few earthly possession I thought impossible to part with - my toothbrush, my camera, my last can of tomato soup - and headed in a new direction. I thought about going home only momentarily - cause we all know you can never go home - but ultimately decided to take another chance. So what if I was a fugitive without a cent to my name?
You've only got one life. Eventually, we all end up in a ditch beside a road. Might as well go out in a blaze of glory. Here's to you, Jane Doe.
The heavy rain of the previous week had softened the earth beside the road considerably. I tried to choose my steps wisely, but it was no use. The soggy ground gave way as I went, sending me careening down the hill into the ditch where the body lay.
She was on her back, naked, head (or should I say what was left of it) turned to the side, limbs frozen in a grotesque pantomime.
"Jesus, Franklin! You almost destroyed the crime scene before taking any pictures!" barked the nearest cop.
"Yes, sir."
I grabbed my camera and began to shoot.
II
There's no easy way to make a living these days. How many people do you know who actually like their jobs? Half the time you can't find work, half the time you pray work would never find you.
I sat waiting, at the cheap silver diner on the boulevard, for my next meal ticket. Dickie walked in a good hour late, with the usual look of doom.
"Shit, Rach. Have you been here long?"
"Only an hour."
"Why haven't you ordered yet?"
"Not hungry, had to sub at the medical examiner's today."
He shot me a knowing glance and slid into the booth.
"So..." I said.
"I have some bad news."
I rolled my eyes. Dickie pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered it to me.
"You know I don't smoke," I said taking one.
"Of course. Now here's the thing, Rach. There's going to be some major cutbacks at the paper. Marshall just circulated a memo about eliminating excess baggage. Basically, we're in deep shit."
"So?"
"So I can't give you anymore assignments. Not paying ones anyway."
I looked at him closely. His nostrils flared rhythmically and the large puce bags under his eyes seemed more aggravated than usual. He was such an odd duck.
"Ok then. See you around." I said, as I stood up and headed for the door. I stopped only to put out the cigarette.
III
I've always prided myself on being a resourceful girl. But I think the truth is that I'd just been lucky. I got out of school unscathed and have a piece of paper to prove it. I managed to find my way to a city I love (d), a place where my art could flourish. And I made some money along the way. As with all luck and / or resources though, mine seemed to have run out. Dissipated. Evaporated. Poof.
A knocking at my door. It's dark in my apartment. Electricity turned off days ago. If I ignore it, they might think I'm not home or maybe they'll think I'm dead. And either way, they'll go away. Knocking again, louder now. See? What did I tell you about my luck?
I peered out the peephole. Landlord. Unlock slowly.
"Ms. Franklin. I am just here to remind you that your rent was due three weeks ago. In two more days, I go to the police."
I stared. He snorted, so hard his protuberant gut heaved greatly.
"Indeed," I ventured.
He turned a little red and snorted once more, for effect.
"Indeed, Ms. Franklin."
I shut the door.
IV
Sometimes, our moments of greatest clarity come at really inopportune times. Of course, I suppose it doesn't make sense to have a life-altering epiphany when all is well. Best to change when things are in the crapper. Words to live by. You can quote me.
And so, I left.
I packed what few earthly possession I thought impossible to part with - my toothbrush, my camera, my last can of tomato soup - and headed in a new direction. I thought about going home only momentarily - cause we all know you can never go home - but ultimately decided to take another chance. So what if I was a fugitive without a cent to my name?
You've only got one life. Eventually, we all end up in a ditch beside a road. Might as well go out in a blaze of glory. Here's to you, Jane Doe.
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