Picture Perfect Memory

.picture perfect memory.

one-shot

Sitting at her windowsill two stories high, serenity filled Isabella’s mind. The birds chirped a melodious melody. Piles of leaves danced in the wind, swirling shapes of red and orange.

Life, it seemed, went on while Isabella pondered aimlessly.

Parallel to her window sat a boy one year her senior. He was busy experimenting with his SLR camera, aiming towards the sun setting sky. His delicate long fingers held the camera adjusting the lens while his other snapped the picture. Pointing the lens in various directions, the boy suddenly sat face to face with Isabella. His heart stopped and skipped a beat. Snap. Picture perfect. He lowered the camera and a faint smile placed itself on his lips.

Isabella stayed seated, mesmerized by the Boy. Her dough-like black eyes finally blinked and she managed to close her mouth. She still could not turn her gaze. His smile was so perfect. Those hands so sure of themselves. And his eyes; they appeared to be an emerald green from where she sat. Finally, she returned the smile. Isabella brought her fragile hand up against the cold window and the hairs on her arm stood up.

Something about this boy was so fascinating that Isabella felt she could look at him all day. He was like a painting; the more you gazed at it, the more you saw, because a painting could take your breath away making you stare at it and find something new each time.

This Boy was definitely unique. Exotic would be more like it.

After a few more moments of staring, the Boy brought the camera eye level once more, focused on Isabella and snapped the picture. He looked at the photo and smiled. Her dough-like black eyes were staring at the camera and her hand was pressed against the window. Her long raven hair flowed well past her shoulders and framed her heart shaped, flawless face.

Time was ticking slowly, for this moment would be never be forgotten by either of them.

Face leaning down towards the camera, the Boy looked up at Isabella. She had changed to a standing position but this time she no longer looked at the boy. She leaned her head down to look at the colorful swirling leaves. The Boy once again lifted the camera to his eye and aimed it to the swirling leaves. Isabella looked up and found the Boy’s eyes staring at her now. He tilted his head to the side and smiled once more before pointing his finger down to the piles of leaves. Those pictures would later on be memories of the few moments before they met.

Isabella’s heart fluttered as she nodded and turned to leave her room. Hand on the doorknob, she looked around her room and inhaled deeply, taking everything in.

This, she'd soon find out, would be the beginning of her future.