“Hey! Come
on.” Clea laughed. “Just one picture.”
“Nope.” Josh
said blocking the lens with his hand.
“Please?”
Clea stepped back and refocused.
“No.” Josh
held up the newspaper in front of his face.
“Aw, why not?”
Clea plunked down in the chair.
“Because.”
Josh peeked over the paper. “I don’t like having my picture taken. I’ve told you that.”
“But why? I
don’t understand.” Clea pouted.
“Growing up, we had our pictures taken every time we
stepped outside. Three, four, five
photographers at a time. All right in
our faces.” Josh set the paper
down. “It was the norm for us but I
hated it. By the end of High School I
was so sick of the intrusion that I decided to get lost in Europe for the summer. My first taste of anonymity. It was great.
Since then, I vowed to live camera free.”
“Oh, alright.”
Clea sat up and set the camera aside.
“You win.”
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