Brightonandonandon 8 & 9

Brightonandonandon #8 – The Old Pier

Myleene attached the camera to her tripod and positioned it carefully in the stones.

“This is going to blow them all out of the water!” she whispered to herself, unscrewing a 50mm lens. She removed the long telephoto from its bag and screwed it in.

The sun was just about to start setting. Myleene had been waiting hours for this special moment, the golden hour. As the sun began it’s descent, Myleene adjusted her focus onto the decaying pier. Myleene whispered to her Canon.

“Brighton Photographer of the Year is as good as ours”

Suddenly, a fat man in a speedo stepped in front of Myleene’s shot. The man held up a disposable camera and snapped at the Old Pier.

Incensed, Myleene tried pushing him out of the way but he would not budge. Gravity was defiantly on his side. He wound up his toy and continued to snap.

To Myleene’s left a large group of Italian tourists began to scrunch in next to her, nudging her off her bearings. They all removed their iPhones in unison and they too began to document the occasion.

On Myleene’s right she felt something land on her foot. She looked down to see the leg of a tripod on her purple converse sneaker. The tripod’s owner, a girl about her age, had the next model camera up from hers – positioned right at the Old Pier.

Myleene started to panic. She wondered if maybe her great photo idea wasn’t as original as she first thought.

She turned around and looked up the pebble beach. Behind her, hundreds of people with cameras all snapped away in tandem, their flashes needlessly enabled. Myleene fell to the pebbles, temporarily blinded. She shouted to the heavens as she fell

“Amateurs!”

Myleene lay on the beach, listening to the crashing sound of the waves. She sat up, and as her vision returned to her, she reached up for the camera. Removing it from the tripod, she held it up to her face and peered through the viewfinder. Myleene scanned across the horizon in search of the Old Pier but it was no where to be found.

A large piece of wood washed up on the shore beside her.

Myleene took a picture of a Seagull instead.

 

Brightonandonandon #9 – Mysterious Gale

Paulo sat on the upper deck of the open top bus as it careened down towards Devil’s Dyke. He’d done all the LA City Tours last year while in America and he had told friends that it was the highlight of his holiday.

Cold, sharp winds hit Paulo in his face. He moved his rucksack from off of the the bus floor as it was beginning to get quite wet down there. He placed it on his lap instead.

The tour guide, who was standing at the front of the bus sporting a fluorescent yellow rain mac, spoke something into his microphone which Paulo could not hear over the screeching gusts. The guide pointed down towards one of the large houses below, where Paulo could just about make out the silhouette of a man putting some black bags into a dustbin.

“Who is it?” Paulo shouted to an American man sitting behind him.

“Aundre something!” the man shouted back. “He said his name was Aundre… Peters? I think… or Peter Aundre, I don’t know.”

Paulo pulled out his autograph book and rummaged for a blank page. As the rain hit it’s pages, Tom Cruise’s signature spread out and smudged across the paper.

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