Flash

I CURSE THE INVENTOR OF MIRRORS
FOR BESTOWING HUMANKIND THE GIFT
OF SEEING ONE’S OWN IMPERFECTIONS
AND I CURSE FURTHERMORE THE CAMERA’S
FOR BESTOWING HUMANKIND THE GIFT
OF SEEING EACH OTHER’S IMPERFECTIONS
FROZEN ETERNALLY IN TIME AND SPACE
WITHOUT THE CHANCE OF OVERWRITING

The 1st of April, Niigata — Japan.

Dearest reader,

It is not out of shamelessness that I trouble you to read my humble tale, a tale belonging more to the camera than to myself. Allow me to explain, thus, that since this tale begins on April 1st, The Fool's Day, the veracity of the events depicted is yet to be determined, before the end of the story. I do concede, for lack of a better alternative, that this may just be a fantasy to embellish the last day of my last spring break, which had left much to be desired until just then. My leisurely routine could be briefly summarized through this self-effacting piece of flash fiction.

“He woke up, lived, slept, and repeated, waiting for a time when it wouldn't repeat. Thus lived Akito Itabashi, until his first meeting with Death”.

That said, my once placid existence was quite joyous — or, at least, I believed it to be — before my encounter with the magic camera. Once photographed by it, however, I noticed a profound lack of charm in the mixture of my previous life. It is no wonder, dear reader, that I omitted my life up to the moment this tale begins, on April Fool's Day. Sometimes, a single event is enough to redefine an entire life, as long as it actually happens, and that is what The Camera Tale is about. 

I bid you farewell, then, with the following message: To all whom are on their last day of spring break, bored and truly believing to have wasted it all, fret not. A single encounter, even if on the last possible day, can give meaning to everything that has happened before, and, also, to everything that is yet to come.

Enjoy yourselves.
Yours sincerely, the narrator, Akito Itabashi.