Out of Focus #SYTYCW15 Top10 Finalist! [COMPLETED]

16| Burgers & Butterflies

True to his word he kept his distance, letting her do her thing. Watching with fascination as she approached person after person.

Some brushed her off, others declined with a smile, but every now and then she snagged a fish on the line and was engaged for either a few minutes, or, in one case, the better part of an hour.

Each encounter Marshall saw a change in her. A gradual lift in her spirit that brightened her features until she shone, radiant and compelling as the sun. And it wasn't a transformation visible only to him, but to everyone around, as well.

Five days in, Marshall had come to conclusion that Eva Turner didn't have a single lazy bone in her body. She crammed every second of every minute. When the weather turned or the crowds thinned, she was in the black room, processing prints from her rolls of film.

When he'd asked her why she didn't outsource the job her answer of seeing the birth of the images as they appeared in the solution had charmed and impressed him.

They worked through the days, from morning to afternoon. Breaking only to scarf in some food, the pushing through to the early evening.

While she worked, Marshall took notes and, because he had a fair hand with a pencil, some sketches, too. Not entirely against the rules, he thought. A sketch wasn't a photograph or a video, and not like he planned to show anyone. These were for him and him alone. Something to do. And look at.

He'd caught her from different angles and vantages. She really did have a striking face, with those large, incredible eyes that said everything and nothing all at the same time. And the way the humidity and breeze teased at her mess of hair, creating waves and thick, coiling spirals that made the odd shape and cut almost...flattering.

After a long, and by his opinion, successful day, he'd managed to talk Eva into stopping by the seaside bar and grill for a bite since they'd pushed through the afternoon with little pause or rest.

The establishment was crammed with bodies, some local but mostly red-faced tourists of the young college variety, starved after a day of roasting on the beach.

Why anyone insisted on rolling every fifteen minutes on the hour while baking in the sun like a rotisserie chicken was an enjoyable way to pass a gorgeous afternoon boggled him.

"Get any good stuff?" Marshall asked, tucking in to their shared platter of fries smothered in gravy and cheese curds.

Mouth full of burger, Eva turned around the screen on her digital and scrolled through the first dozen. She'd gone for candids, today. Most were of entire faces, but he imagined she'd hone in on features, or background elements, to convey her artistic message.

Further in the batch she'd switched over from faces to concentrate on hands and body language. And when the mood struck, brought in the surrounding environment to enhance the atmosphere.

Finding what she was searching for, Eva handed over the camera. The impact was immediate, and the image hadn't even gone through any tweaking or editing.

"This is great. Look at the texture." He pushed at the buttons on the camera until the picture zoomed in on ripples in still water where smooth grey stones sat. Just above was a cast shadow of a hand, broken and twisted and...brutal.

Leaning closer, his eyes skipped over the details, the nuances, the subtle veins of light and...something. He could almost see the water move. The air. And that hand, gnarled and twisted and distorted in reflection, was reaching out to drag him in.

Pull him under.

"I think this is going to be a favourite," Eva brushed her finger along the screen to show the flow of movement and play of light. "He was a real bruiser, this guy. But underneath the hardness was such...regret. The way the water distorted his hand really reflected his inner torment."