* FABER ACADEMY 05/08/15 FLASHFIC WINNER *
By Harriet Gillian
“Oh no.” Tony tutted. “Really? You’re going to go with that one?”
He and Barbara had been paired up at random.
“Maybe.” Barbara said, examining the image she’d just taken.
Tony waved his wrist and pursed his lips. “Your funeral.”
Barbara frowned. Tony had taken his ten shots on the theme ‘street life’ the minute they’d left the classroom and stumbled across some world-weary street sellers. He’d thrust his camera right up in their faces while they batted him away like a boring mosquito. After all hope had faded that he might actually buy something, he was comically seen off by the shorter of the two women and chased through the crowd into the nearest shoe shop. Barbara had documented the moment for class, or the police, whichever came first. Either way, she was pleased with that shot.
“Chop chop, Babs.” Tony tapped his watch.
She thought she might wallop him.
A local man puffed some sweet smelling pipe smoke in their direction and Tony’s face contorted in disgust. Her shutter clicked.
“Shall we head over there?” Barbara pointed towards a man holding a small agitated monkey.
Tony strode over like it was his idea, camera in one hand, fingers waggling, simply asking for trouble, on the other.
Barbara raised her viewfinder and waited for the inevitable. It’s funny, she thought, that she’d come all the way to Asia, only to find her photographic muse in a middle-aged man from Dorking.