The lighthouse stood by the bay, small waves hitting it softly.
The carcass of a boat rocked back and forth, a warning flag still swaying in the wind.
They had been overexposed to that gas, the one coming from the barrels tossed in the water at high sea. They tried to sail away as fast as they could. But it was only a matter of seconds.
People came onboard. They said no, don’t come here. But they did anyway.
And now, the lighthouse stood by the bay, small waves hitting it softly, with no one to take care of it.
Overdressed – Overexposed
Have you ever seen those goth girls and boys? All black clothing and mascara, veils and teenage angst.
Even on the hottest, sunniest day, they shrink within their cloak of darkness, like modern day vampires, avoiding the light as if it threatened mortal danger.
I once went out with a girl like that.
For months, I tried everything I could to encourage her to shed just a few layers of protective attire.
Then one fateful day, she relented, and stripped to her bare skin.
Skin so pale, she appeared like a badly overexposed photograph.
So bright, she blinded me forever.
After a day’s work on a photoshoot in an ancient forest, I found one image I’d accidentally overexposed. I would have thrown it out, but I noticed it had brought out some strange details in a deep hole amongst some tree roots.
I went back the next day to image the thing better. Going close up would just scare off whatever it was, so instead I brought my ultra-HDR, ultra-resolution digital to get it by stealth from a distance.
On the camera back I zoomed in on the hole and turned up the brightness…
THEY DON’T LIKE TO BE SEEN!
Maybe, as a child, I was overexposed to violence and bloodshed; although, it’s fair to say that none of the other kids in the neighbourhood followed the path I’ve taken.
Perhaps, poor mental health has warped my values and sense of decency, eroded my capacity to empathise and my grasp on reality. Yet every test I’ve taken indicates I’m no more damaged than the next person.
I suppose I may have lacked spiritual and moral guidance to keep me on the straight and narrow. But, that’s not true either.
I simply enjoy mindless torture and violence.
See… Perfectly well adjusted!
What Could GO Possible Wrong 020
If anyone had spent the time in any timeframe perusing the walls of the Arm’s they would have come a across a most piacular overexposed photo. Even in the rumble of the curtain state of the pub they would have seen their collected face. Warn and weary, but a glare of defend resolve. Cervantes had seen it, the machinations of the last few days were to ensure it would accrue. They would never forgive him, but he had long ago given that emotion to the devil in exchange for a clear sight of right action. Duty heavy as a Mountain.
They saw the flickering light of the bon fire long before they got to it. Excitement flickered in Sabrina’s eyes, reflected from the dancing flames. “Stay behind me as we approach the ceremony. I don’t want you to be overexposed to the magic.”
Billbert stopped dead. “Overexposed. That doesn’t sound good. What are you getting me into?”
“Nothing. Really. It’s a simple ceremony. But, if you’re not used to magic, you may get dizzy, disoriented, or a bit euphoric. Just keep in mind, I’m your friend.”
“You’ve said that before,” Billbert said and headed back the way they had come.
Melanie spent a lot of time volunteering at the hospital.
“I like reading to old people,” she said. “Especially the ones who have no family or friends visiting them.”
She did it for two years before she stopped showing up.
All of the patients who’d died left everything in their wills to an asset management company she’d set up to drain them dry.
She cashed out, got a new identity, and left the country.
The hospital probably should have known when they asked her to help with the children’s ward.
And she replied “Kids? They don’t have any fucking money.”