Lenslinger
06-07-2006, 11:13 PM
...Mine wasn’t the only lens aloft when the stretcher appeared. Thirty seconds after I arrived, competitors, rogues and allies emerged from the mist. As a pesky deputy scanned the menagerie of news-gatherers for whom to hassle next, we all fell into easy conversation, picking up on topics we’d delved into the last time the lot of us were stranded by calamity. Of course all talk stopped when the paramedics in the distance wheeled the gurney into view. Like snipers lying in wait, we took to our crosshairs and silently tracked the status of the patient in question. Strapped into the stretcher, he lay perfectly still as two beefy medics steered him toward the ambulance. When the highly-reflective doors slammed shut a few moments later, chatter in the press gallery resumed....
Read the rest at Viewfinder BLUES (http://lenslinger.blogspot.com/2006/06/bruised-fruit-of-eternal-pursuit.html). Or don't. No big whoop.
Read the rest at Viewfinder BLUES (http://lenslinger.blogspot.com/2006/06/bruised-fruit-of-eternal-pursuit.html). Or don't. No big whoop.