The camera
342 Words
Chapter 3 — The Camera.
The camera started as a joke. At least, that’s what Aisha believed in the beginning.
Noah brought it the third day they met. It was small, slightly scratched, and looked like it had already lived through several adventures.
“Where did you get that?” Aisha asked.
“Old thing,” he said. “Still works though.”
“And why exactly are you recording our embarrassing conversations?”
“Because,” he replied, turning it on, “memories are unreliable.”
“That’s a dramatic answer.”
“I’m a dramatic person.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t stop him. Soon it became a strange tradition between them.
Every afternoon, Noah would place the camera somewhere nearby—on a chair, on a table, sometimes balanced dangerously on a stack of magazines—and record a small piece of the day.
At first Aisha felt awkward. Talking to a camera felt unnatural. But Noah had a way of making everything feel easy.
“Future Aisha,” he said one afternoon while the camera blinked red, “today you admitted that pineapple on pizza is acceptable.”
“I did not,” she protested immediately.
“You absolutely did.”
“That is slander.”
“Too late. It’s documented.”
She laughed and tried to grab the camera, but he held it out of reach. Moments like that slowly stitched their days together.
Small.
Ordinary.
Important.
⸻
One evening the hospital lost power for a few seconds during a storm. The lights flickered. Everything went dark.
People murmured nervously in the hallway.
When the emergency lights came on, the waiting room was washed in a soft orange glow.
Aisha looked toward Noah.
He was watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said softly.
“You’re being weird.”
“I’m always weird.”
“True.”
But he didn’t look away immediately.
Almost like he was memorizing her face.
(To be continued)
- Writer
