It wasn’t a great camera, but to him it could just as well have been the world’s best.
To him, it was more than a camera. It was a promise. A promise of good times to come, of a world waiting to be explored, of adventures to be had and mysteries to be unraveled.
Plans had been made.
He had a comfortable retirement fund. Upon his pin-up board was a world map with places selected and colour coded based on priority, along with a smaller state map. It would be mighty unpatriotic to go globe trotting without first appreciating the magnificence of his own land. Pages were marked out in his scrapbook for his special places. A time would come when he would be too frail to travel. After all, old age was inevitable. Then he could go through it and reminiscence.
But life had its own plans.
The cells in his body decided to have adventures of their own. The retirement fund went trying to get them under control, but the little bastards just wouldn’t stop. Frailty came before old age could.
He now lay in bed, along with an empty scrap book on the table, and an unused camera in the cupboard.
In response to the Sunday Photo Fiction challenge of November 5th 2017, based on a photo by A Mixed bag 2013