I felt stupid saying, “Is that what I am doing now? Having a conversation with myself?”
In the second print shimmering in the liquid, I noticed the downward turn of his lips and I tried to determine if, in his smile, there was despair or contempt or skepticism. I hung the print on the drying hook.
The sequence is wrong. You have arranged the prints in the wrong order. You need to reverse them all.
I wondered if I had inhaled some of the red dust on my brief trip outside. I put the last print into the tray and I saw the outline of a slim man taking shape, the shoulders slightly hunched, the thinning hair swept back. I held the print against the lamp – before it could completely dry – and I saw the same figure. I carried it upstairs and held it against the window, hoping that in the natur
