Photo: The Next Day © Robert Schneider Light Under a BushelVisit his blog to see additional photos. And, his website HERE.
The photographer lives in Lexington, Massachusetts, and specializes
in photography with toy, vintage, and Polaroid cameras.
Photo used with permission from Robert Schneider.
10 comments:
Haiku
A big bird walked by
and saw a cozy home to
deposit her eggs.
The next day she was a woman. Her breasts felt bigger and there was a light in her eyes that seemed brighter. Cora stared at her reflection for a long, long time. It was then that she knew.
It would never be the same. She would never be daddy's little girl again. And, her mother would treat her differently. Not like her daughter, but another woman.
It was that day, the next day, that Cora became her own best friend. She could never trust another person completely ever again. At least not with the innocence of a child, but only with the skepticism of a woman.
One by one
all the balloons
that sailed in the sky
made their way home
from their incredible journey.
They fell exhaugsted
at the door
the day after their journey
tweedles
Hi, this is my first time to your site. I just clicked the every photo tells a story link on James Parker art, whom I must go back to explore. Love what you are doing here. I too like JD Salinger, I've only read Catcher in the Rye; a biography of a woman who had a relationship with him, and some other of his writing somewhere he had done, cannot remember where, but impressed by his style. Bye for now.
Diminished festivities compressed by descending living accommodations leftover from a past that never existed.
She went to the party store and bought paper plates, cups, and silverware, cone hats and balloons. Her best friend blew up the balloons, and she tied them together. Then, her best friend’s kid sister tied them to the front stoop. They sat on the front porch and waited and waited.
“Are you sure they’re coming?”
“They said they were.” But the truth was, no one made any firm RSVPs. She got half-hearted yes’s, and assumed they would come because there wasn’t much else to do in the dead of summer.
But after a few hours, still no one had showed up. She realized too late that no one had asked for directions. That should’ve been a sign. Her usual friends were away, and these were friends from summer school.
“I’m sorry, we have to go home,” her friend said.
“That’s all right. Thanks for coming, and thanks for your help.”
She hugged the two of them, and watched them walk down the street and around the corner, until they were out of sight.
She went into the house and put the paper products away. There was no point in throwing them out; her family could use them later.
Later, when her parents came home, they asked her how the party was.
“It was fine,” she said.
Her mom gave her a skeptical look, but didn’t press further. She nodded when daughter asked to leave the balloons on the front stoop, since they look festive.
The next morning, she went to look at the balloons and was surprised to see that they had deflated, and were flopped over the railing.
They must be cheap balloons, she thought to herself, as she cut the string and threw them out in the garbage cans by the side of the house.
PARTY POPPERS
Cake and pie and ice cream,
Party games and prizes,
Opening gifts and presents,
Filled with swell surprises.
It seems it takes forever,
For my birthday to come around,
But so soon the party's over,
And the guests are homeward bound
It's sad to see these balloons now,
Once so bright and cheery and gay,
Serving as lonely reminders,
Of how quickly time slips away.
Another year of life
And we all go celebrate
Happy that we're older
On that special birthday date
It's strange that we're so joyous
As are family and our friends
For every year we honour
Brings us closer to our ends
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