Irene:
Iris and I are seated in the pack-house’s hang out room; I am showing her the camera that Enrique bought for me, the knot in my stomach unwinding as she looks at it with fascination. The camera even has my name written on it.
“This is so brilliant, Irene. Now, you can take photos, have you taken your first photo yet?” Iris asks with a bright smile.
“Not yet.” I say, shifting in the chair. I just feel as if it will be wrong if my first photo isn’t Enrique, he brought me a camera, he wants me to pursue my dream, if not for him, I wouldn’t have even made any effort, but he did.
And I want him to be the first person I capture through my lens. It still feels weird though, he’s doing stuff that has my inside fluttering, jumping and dancing.
Like butterflies fluttering deep inside me,
