Our Volvo SUV awaits as we butter toast, shuffle plates of eggs. I hurriedly book a massage, text my oldest daughter’s violin tutor right before the shoot begins. What the photographer sees: an impeccably dressed Japanese woman surrounded by three… Continue Reading
Alice leaned over his small Ikea table, a curtain of blonde hair hiding her expression. He stood at a respectful distance, unsure if she was interested in him or just his art. Her black cashmere sleeve was pushed up to… Continue Reading
Of all the people on the meadow, the girl is the only one who is not taking photographs. Because photographs of a meadow are meant for people who don’t actually get to be on a meadow. In photographs, the fog… Continue Reading
Assi pulled the dusty, khaki knapsack between his legs and hunkered behind the low parking garage wall. There was just enough room between two burned out cars for him to kneel and watch the snipers in buildings across the traffic… Continue Reading