The sound of thunder ripped through the wooden frames of the fragile house and she put the glass down after having stained it with her lipstick. She gathered her stuff and walked out but looked back before pulling the door shut. The old lady on the rocking chair smiled at her as she waved goodbye, and he put down the guitar and nodded. The ceilling fan consistently clicked as it turned and the room darkened quickly as the daylight outside gave way to rain. He took out her camera and quickly snapped a shot before leaving. It made for a great still. And then she promised to make it back soon, and he, the man with the guitar began singing his song to the old lady as she drove off in the rain.
She would have made it back as she promised, she could have, there was plenty of time, but the fact was she did not. She wanted to, but she did not. And now she has this still to remember that by. Remember the fact that she was a let down. She did not think the little old lady relied upon her word, and neither did she feel anything enough to drive out all that way again. She did not think she was important to the little old lady, but who is she to say, she gave her word, and failed to commit to the carrying out of it and now she sits in the grey room with a still before her she wished would carry a different emotion. A still she is now remembered by, in the grey room.
The man walked into the room and took a long stride toward her. He smiled as she looked around the room, lined across, from wall to ceilling, apart from a small space that was the door, with shelves filled with albums. He smiled as they flipped through the album together. He took out his guitar and started singing. She shouldn't be here in this room listening to her last song, in fact she should be out there doing something worthwhile. He held his breath as she stood up, and he nodded and hugged her. She had places to go, and she was not going to let him catch up with her. Not until she is finished.
There were many-a-things about her life that would make a bad still, worthy of the grey room, but who is she to think that there were more that made it into the white room. The write room, she could not get into until after the man with the guitar sang his last song. There were many-a-stills she wanted to alter, so why not she started now. She went back to the lake and picked up a fishing rod, and fished a big fish with the old man in the boat. As they rowed ashore, she caught a glimpse of the still photographer and his camera. Snapshot and a smile. She kissed the old man goodbye and walked off into the rain. He was contented and as he listened to the man with the guitar sing his life song, he faded and drifted into eternity. Many-a-stills the guitar man photographed, many a stills until now, she sat on the bed and rocked in her chair and waited expectantly for him.
He knocked on the door and took of his hat and smiled as he walked in. The white album, it was time, and tears streamed down her face because she knew. They flipped through it together and there was a knock on the door, and a young girl waved and smiled. She slipped in right beside her on the creaky floor of the fragile wooden house and held her hand as they chatted. She closed her eyes, and the guitar man, he showed her a few more pictures, and he began singing his song. She drifted and faded and smiled as she saw good memories frozen on still, and her favourite one was when she caressed the sweet baby girl, the one she decided to keep. She opened her eyes as he sang the last chorus and she caught a glimpse of that once sweet baby girl. The beautiful young woman, tears in her eyes, kissed her and whispered, I love you. As he strummed the last line, she closed her tired eyes and she whispered, I love you too sweet baby girl, of all the still that were my life I am most happy when I see the ones with you. She drifted to eternity and the young woman stood up, and walked out into the rain. And the guitar man put his guitar down, and took out his camera, and snapped. Shot a still that was the last in the little old woman's scrapbook.
The young woman will have her turn and she will find herself relieved for the many choices she makes for it is funny how many stills in her life have been caught just in the nick of time, he smiled as he placed the still in her scrapbook. Stills, fond memories, parts of life that have been frozen and kept.
