Kael and Jem : Snapshot - Kael

There was just one photo stuck to the fridge door, amongst the flyers and scraps from magazines, the scribbled numbers and notes.

It had been taken down in Brighton – on the pier, the weekend after the May Day celebrations on the Downs, must be 12 years ago now. The colours were that slightly faded artificial tint that you get on old snapshots – bleached out blue sky, and the two of them grinning at the camera, Jem’s arm around his waist, his loosely thrown across Jem’s shoulders. They looked happy, comfortable together and smiling in the sun. Jem had had his hair longer then, wavy loops around the photograph fingers, but the muscled arms were the same, and the photo had caught that moment before laughter bubbled up, twisting his smile slightly.

That had been a good day. Well, a good week, with all the celebrations, but that day had just been the two of them, slumming it in the Lanes, freezing their tongues with ice-cream, riding the Ferris wheel between groups of screaming teenage girls, and generally making like carefree human teenagers themselves.

Kael remembered the day – the moment even. This elderly lady had offered to take the camera, chatting a little about how nice a day it was, and good to see two young men out enjoying themselves and so on. She’d watched them take turns shooting ducks in the arcade, and complimented Kael on his marksmanship. And then, once they were posed, and she was lining up the camera she’d floored them both.

“Course, it’s not like it used to be, all those revolting fairies prancing around. Disgusting I call it.”

She’d carried on for another moment – something about family fun, and nudist beaches and what a shocking shame it was - before realising that both her companions were failing to suppress their giggles. She’d practically thrown the camera at them as she bustled off, silent with indignant fury.

He could almost hear the increasingly hysterical laughter as the two of them had clutched each other, renewed each time one of them calmed down enough to repeat “fairies” in strangled tones, and smiled at the memory.

Kael and Jem : Snapshot - Kael

There was just one photo stuck to the fridge door, amongst the flyers and scraps from magazines, the scribbled numbers and notes.

It had been taken down in Brighton – on the pier, the weekend after the May Day celebrations on the Downs, must be 12 years ago now. The colours were that slightly faded artificial tint that you get on old snapshots – bleached out blue sky, and the two of them grinning at the camera, Jem’s arm around his waist, his loosely thrown across Jem’s shoulders. They looked happy, comfortable together and smiling in the sun. Jem had had his hair longer then, wavy loops around the photograph fingers, but the muscled arms were the same, and the photo had caught that moment before laughter bubbled up, twisting his smile slightly.

That had been a good day. Well, a good week, with all the celebrations, but that day had just been the two of them, slumming it in the Lanes, freezing their tongues with ice-cream, riding the Ferris wheel between groups of screaming teenage girls, and generally making like carefree human teenagers themselves.

Kael remembered the day – the moment even. This elderly lady had offered to take the camera, chatting a little about how nice a day it was, and good to see two young men out enjoying themselves and so on. She’d watched them take turns shooting ducks in the arcade, and complimented Kael on his marksmanship. And then, once they were posed, and she was lining up the camera she’d floored them both.

“Course, it’s not like it used to be, all those revolting fairies prancing around. Disgusting I call it.”

She’d carried on for another moment – something about family fun, and nudist beaches and what a shocking shame it was - before realising that both her companions were failing to suppress their giggles. She’d practically thrown the camera at them as she bustled off, silent with indignant fury.

He could almost hear the increasingly hysterical laughter as the two of them had clutched each other, renewed each time one of them calmed down enough to repeat “fairies” in strangled tones, and smiled at the memory.

Kael and Jem : Snapshot - Jem

Jem was vaguely considering the contents of the fridge while he waited for the kettle to boil. No amount of staring was making anything in it look that appetizing though, and the baker’s opposite would have warm rolls by the time he took a break. He hooked out he open milk bottle and swung the door shut. A picture caught his eye. Pushing back the mass of papers that were overlapping it, he gave himself a clear view. It was all laughter and closeness: shared thoughts and perfect trust. Beautiful, delicate things, although the him in the photo wouldn’t know that yet.

( Read more... )

Kael and Jem : Snapshot - Jem

Jem was vaguely considering the contents of the fridge while he waited for the kettle to boil. No amount of staring was making anything in it look that appetizing though, and the baker’s opposite would have warm rolls by the time he took a break. He hooked out he open milk bottle and swung the door shut. A picture caught his eye. Pushing back the mass of papers that were overlapping it, he gave himself a clear view. It was all laughter and closeness: shared thoughts and perfect trust. Beautiful, delicate things, although the him in the photo wouldn’t know that yet.

( Read more... )