September 10, 2015 - London Photography Academy
As I slowly creak open the cream modern looking door, the first thing I register is the strong floral smell of perfume. The scent tells me that Becky has already arrived. I walk in and see her lying across the roughly made bed, her bags are sprawled along the duvet and floor, with makeup bottles and handbags on the windowsill. I clutch my brand new expensive camera, specially bought for my start at the Photography Academy.
My nerves come back as I look down at my large suitcase, rucksack, small bag and camera case; realising with a gulp that Becky must have at least 20 bags, whilst I have three and a half. But then I remember that Becky is Becky, and if we invite her on a 'short trip' into town, she will turn up with five handbags and possibly a picnic basket.
"Hey." I say.
Becky shoots bolt upright as if a murderer with a chainsaw has just barged in. Close enough to me, I guess.
She gasps. "Oh, it's just you, the way you said hey reminded me of my ex." She's giving me 'the look', you know, the one where someone stares at you like you're insane. Well, two can play at that game.
I return the look, directed at Becky, since she's insane too (spraying our compartment with rosy perfume! And she tells me she has only been here half an hour). I don't know what they put in those bottles but it's enough to make anyone throw up. Then we both start falling over with laughter—normal for us—because a heavy IKEA catalogue falls out of my rucksack. It's enough to make us paralysed with laughter for 3 hours.
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life behind a lens
Short Storythis was first published when i was 13 so it's mediocre and embarrassing but i'm keeping it here for the sake of nostalgia and character development. read at your own risk :)
