I was standing at the sink, cleaning up, when suddenly the light from the windows shifted. At first I thought a cloud had passed over the sun. The molten-gold color and low angle soon convinced me otherwise. Somehow the time between one heartbeat and the next had become much longer than usual. My aching feet finally convinced me that I'd been standing at the sink for 2 hours, motionless in a blackout. How many times had this happened before and how much is due to my work in teleportation?
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I am thrilled to receive an Order of the Thumb from [user]ubique[/user] & a Muse from k10dguy. Plus, I got lucky & created a shot which fell under the radar of many voters. I feel like an Old Master.
This is only the 2nd shot in about 7 years that I feel is perfect. Exactly what I want to be doing with a camera. I walked into the breakroom at work thinking about something else & the light at the sink caught my attention. I walked back to my desk, picked up my P&S & walked calmly back to the sink, feeling like every move was right on time. The light at the sink will never be like that again, at leaslt for another year. When I opened it for editing & saw the little puddle of water in the sink, I was very pleased.
So, thank you very much for the wonderful comments. I appreciate you!
Statistics
Place: 412 out of 454 Avg (all users): 4.7821 Avg (commenters): 6.0000 Avg (participants): 4.7184 Avg (non-participants): 4.9057 Views since voting: 882 Views during voting: 235 Votes: 156 Comments: 7 Favorites: 1 (view)
This is a beautifully realized little vignette of auto-interrogation: Is this my real life? Am I mad? Am I happy? Am I still me?
But of course it's only a tiny moment when time stood still. The clock didn't move, didn't even tick.
It's a lot more sophisticated (and a lot more chilling) than it looks, this photograph. I award it a 10. And my personal poisoned chalice ... the Order of the Thumb:
For many lonely nights she stood there, wrapped in gossamer flow, billowing in the breeze from the window beyond. In her dreams it was always the same, she would stand there in the light of the dawn, and he would gaze at her from across the expanse of the sink, and a smile would form on his face, and she would smile back, but only slightly. They would flirt like this for awhile, and eventually he would come to her and take her hand, and they would begin a waltz across the formica, away from the stainless steal and into a happiness untold.
But that was only in her dreams. As she stood there once more, and gazed across the sink, she saw that once more he would not even acknowledge that she existed. He just stood there and dripped, as he did day after day, his attention entirely on the world inside the basin, trapped within his own self-absorption.
So she closed her eyes, and once more let her dream take her away.
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