Louise Brunet in sidecar
“What are you doing?” Louise asked.
“I think I should take a photo of you, too.”
“Ah, darling, you know I don’t like to have my picture taken.”
“But look, the foliage will make for an interesting background. Come on. Give me the camera.”
Louise picked the camera up from her lap but stopped before she handed it off to Henri. She didn’t know why, but she’d never liked having her picture taken. The dry little click of the shutter made her feel as if some small piece of her was being sliced out of her body—some irredeemable sliver of soul that she could never get back again. When she thought about how primitive this unease was, it made her smirk at herself. She had heard that African Bushmen harbored the same belief. She, so superstitious and uncivilized for no reason she could name—it was a bit funny, really.
“Come on now,” he said. “Just give me a little smile.”
Did you happen on Louise’s box of memories through the QR codes in the book? Come and explore the rest of her memories in the rest of the website…