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It was my tears, hers, that rolled down my cheeks, soddening me subcutaneously. As I adjusted my lens to re-focus on the scenery in front of me- the dipping sun of the dawn, that signified the profound past that eventually changed the everything of my today. The memory was bona fide, vivid. I stood there, lens lowered down, using my eyes, her lens, to relish upon the waning moment of the sunset, a distinct second that would never appear again in the future, never.
Frustration caught unto my head, I handled my camera with utmost care as it was my life-line- my aperture to reality. I tweaked some settings, peered into the viewfinder once again, only to find the imperfections hitting my sight, irritated. It was not the image that I wanted to capture, I was perplexed, but my finger hit the shutter release button nonchalantly as my instinct was prompted me.
There goes my effort of trying to capture the perfect sunset… I sighed at the thought, I had spent weeks in front of the campus to get a tour de force into my gallery but to no avail. The sun finally dipped into the horizon, casting a contouring red and yellow to blemish the blue sky, gradually turning into a russet red as a perambulation of the impending starry night.
My conscience skipped a beat, I fell unto the grass. It was my fatigue, the assignments, the exams, the college life. I kept my eyes closed, picturing the perfect sunset in my mind, having the ball of fire just touching one point of the horizon, scattering chromatic hues of warm reddish orange across the sky, outlines of two birds zipping through the tip of the prospect as a delicate touch-up, the mountains would be painted with a welcoming tone of nature.
A blinding light penetrated my eye lids, a honey smooth voice coated my ears with pure bliss. My conscience darted back into reality, pondering about the source of this beautiful voice. It had been long since I last heard something such healing, dainty, immaculate.
Scrambling back up to my feet, I found the source, it was from a rehearsal to the major event of the year due next month. Curiosity leapt into my limbs, camera steadied in my hands, I was ready to capture any magical moment that would come into my eyes.
The night was young, there was a figure standing on the unfinished structure, holding the mic, indulging in herself. I was bedazzled by the silhouette swinging back and forth, the inner me was slammed with a pang of awe. I lifted up my camera deliberately, unconsciously tuned some settings in order to bring out the best of the moment.
The moment was impeccable, superb lightings, her acute posture, the indulgence of her singing, the half-done stage, everything was in place. As I pressed the button to capture everything in that particular prospect. Flash! She turned to look at me, without stopping her rehearsal, our gaze interlocked, my heart beat a few times faster. She was pristine, I was bashful, the interlinked moment disintegrated into the ordinary.
I put my camera down, just to listen to her voice, to stare at her, as if we were lovers from the sun, the moon and the stars. Love at first sight did not suffice the feeling that I had at the moment, it was just an awestruck.
It was until she finished singing that I found myself strangled in a very awkward situation. As she got down from the flights of wooden stairs, I got a closer look on her, my eyes found her through the viewfinder as she was chatting with the sound team, my finger clicked down the button several times.
This time, I remembered to turn off the flash.
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