Had they made thousands of these? Yes. Thousands of unique, captured dreams mailed to the homes of the rich, the lonely, the sick. And he’d never touched her although he so often dreamt of what that warm, smooth skin would feel like beneath his hands, of what her breathing would feel like under the crush […]
Read MoreShe’d been modeling for him over the past sixteen years, and while technology moved on, their dances didn’t change. Clifford hated the flat boredom of video. It lacked the latent image, the romance of a movie camera. And he had no patience for editing. He captured only what was raw and real, a single reel. […]
Read MoreThe camera churned, a kind of rough chewing made by it’s teeth as they pulled 16mm film by its sprockets, delicately capturing her on celluloid for the last time. She looked this way and that, trained to ignore Clifford and his lens, instead appearing as if the moment were candid; as if this motion picture […]
Read MoreCallie believed in dreams. She would watch clouds pass overhead and the way the sun faded and strengthened behind gray cotton, and she’d make a wish whenever she could see it without squinting; an orb of unimaginable power staring from Heaven like the eye of God. Then she’d think of Damon, his sea blue eyes […]
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