Click

Andrea's fingers sent up a little puff of ash as she lifted the half charred picture. The edges were brown and bubbled a little. His smiling profile was barely recognizable being right at the burnt end of the photograph although his baseball cap and sweatshirt were still white. Well, that was useless. It was his smile she liked to see. Andrea sighed as her arm dropped to her side. She surveyed the huge mound of ash, charred wood, and black bricks that had been her home, still surrounded by the bright red and orange maple leaves, on and off the trees. Andrea closed her eyes and envisioned the picture of how her home had looked just that morning. A little red brick cottage covered in emerald vines, black shingles covered in green moss, a white door with a brass knocker and white curtains in the windows. Click. The picture came up perfectly in Andrea’s photographic memory. The wind rustled in the fiery leaves about the little cottage. Andrea opened her eyes and the same wind that rustled the leaves stirred up the ashes of what was left of her home.

How the fire started or how it consumed her cottage so quickly was a mystery for now. The fire marshals said they would do their best to investigate what had happened. Andrea shivered. She stood alone with the burnt picture in one hand and her small briefcase in the other. Everything else was gone, all her clothes and keepsakes. More importantly all of her cameras and photographs were gone. All but one, she looked down at the useless photograph in her hand. Andrea's synthetic eyes couldn't produce tears but her natural heart was breaking.

She rode the train to her sister's house. Arms folded over her briefcase in her lap, her head hung dejectedly. Her cropped burgundy hair concealed either side of her face like curtains. She still held the burnt picture. Closing her eyes, she saw him as he had looked that day. His snow-white sweatshirt and baseball cap. The light glinted off his white crystal earring, almost as bright as his smile. There was something about the line of his jaw that she'd always liked. Click. She'd taken the surreptitious shot at just the right moment. It was perfect. But not the one and only picture she wanted to be left with. There were so many other pictures, memories that had been destroyed. Like her parents smiling at their wedding or her ninth Halloween when she thought nothing would be cooler than being a robot. It seemed stupid now that this reminder of her cowardice was the only one left.

***

Nicole’s mantle was full of pictures. One was of Nicole and her husband. Andrea remembered their first kiss. She'd caught it on film. Andrea smiled, remembering even better the furious look on her sister's face and the bewildered look on Ryan’s just afterward. She'd caught that in her memory. Click. She wished she could have both pictures in her hands now. Then she could laugh over them with her sister.

“The computer's over here,” Nicole said, walking into the room. “In case you get bored or need to message somebody.” Andrea nodded and asked, “Is that your new printer?” Nicole nodded. “It does everything.”

“Thanks, sis,” Andrea said. Her sister gave her one of those somewhat sad smiles that are supposed to convey sympathy and support. Then she walked out the door, off to work. Andrea sighed and looked around the room. Pictures everywhere. Andrea sat down in front of the computer. There was a cord to connect the printer to a digital camera. They’d gone out of date a couple years ago but some people still used them. Just like Andrea's beloved view camera, now melted into twisted bits of plastic, glass and film. Andrea picked up one end of the cord and pulled back her hair to reveal a small series of various shaped holes behind her ear. Gently she connected the end of the printer cord to the data plate, stored just behind her memory bank. Andrea closed her eyes and the images began to flash. She smiled, giggled, laughed and sighed as the printer whirred. Photographs from Andrea's memory flowed through the wire and spilled out of the printer. When Nicole returned she would find memories caught in time all over the floor. She would be furious that Andrea had printed so many. But that would just become another memory. Click.