#5 Trapped

I couldn’t stop myself from looking at it. The photo was unbelievably beautiful. The moon perfectly framed by dark clouds. All black and white, and yet somehow iridescent.

I had heard rumors about the allure of his photographs but I hadn’t really understood how utterly impossible it would be to take my gaze away from one of them once he had enticed me to look.

I would have happily spent the rest of my life looking at it and I probably would have if he hadn’t cupped my chin and gently turned me away from it.

For a few seconds I stared blankly at him, every detail of the photograph imprinted on my eyes.

His voice finally broke the spell I was under.

“Would you care for a drink?” he asked politely.

I ignored his offer. I only had one question.

“Why do you do this?” I asked him, barely managing to maintain my composure.

The faint smile that his face had worn ever since I had met him widened. “Don’t you think you’re a little too direct?”

“Are you going to answer me?”

“Are you really expecting an answer from me?”

I glared at him for a moment before I walked away, leaving behind the sliver of my soul that was trapped in the photograph.

Rumor had it that there was nothing special about them; the beauty of his photos was all down to the strands of soul that were trapped in them stolen from unwary admirers.

Thinking about it later, I could almost imagine the bright moon to be bits of hundreds of souls trying to escape from their dark prison.

Note: The above picture is the property of Chetan Bapat.