I’m six, old enough to be her assistant. I hand the box to her hand reaching into the light. Metal, plastic latch into place. She explains how this camera, its large negative heightens precision. I half-understand. I drag my sneakers through the grass, remove mud. I’m careful not to wander in front of her lens. She pulls aside the cloth, grows tall, squints, come and see. Look.
by Chloe Yelena Miller
About Chloe: Chloe has an MFA from Sarah Lawrence College. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Narrative, Cortland Review, Alimentum and others. She recently read at Sweetwaters through their reading series. If you would like to contact her she can be reached at email@example.com Chloe's Blog 1 Chloe's Blog 2