In 2017 I had the pleasure of visiting Notre Dame Cathedral. These are a few of the photos I took from the outside.
These were taken from a little cafe across from the Cathedral. While we ate, some gray clouds swung by, but passed withing a few moments. 
The interior was stunning, but I felt uncomfortable taking pictures inside a place of worship. Luckily others did. I’d like to go back once the cathedral is rebuilt.
“Moonlight sends a shiver into night’s brisk sky.”
“You keep spouting poetry and I’m leaving,” said Gary.
Mark grinned. “I’m just trying to set the mood. Got the camera ready?”
“It’ll take pictures every ten seconds and I programed the mechanism to adjust automatically with the moon’s movement.”
“Super,” said Mark, rubbing his hands together. “This is going to be a magical night.”
Gary rolled his eyes, then tossed him a can of soda. “Don’t care how full the moon is or how perfectly aligned the stars are. All you’re going to get are pictures of a moon.”
“We’ll see.”
“Whatever.”
After several hours of listening to the camera click, Gary’s eyes started to feel heavy. Even the ancient oak he leaned on began to feel as soft as a feather bed. He drifted off to the sound of giggles. A sharp pain in his leg woke him up. Mark stood over him, holding the camera.
“What the hay,” he said, rubbing his leg.
“I’ve been trying to wake you for ten minutes. We fell asleep.”
“Surprising,” said Gary, with another eyeroll.
“Remember when you said we would only get pictures of the moon?”
Gary leaned back against the oak. “Did it magically turn to cheese?”
“Funny,” said Mark. “Check this out.”
Gary took the camera and flipped through the digital pictures. Half-way through, his jaw dropped. “Is that a.…”
“Yup. That’s a sprite’s bare butt and its drinking your Sprite. We got mooned. Told you there were fairies in these woods.”
“Get in. He wants a word.”
Sweat trickled down Amos’s back, but not from the heat. The carriage creaked as he and Seth climbed in, carefully averting their eyes from the figure seated on the other bench. A dark straw hat obscured the man’s eyes, but there was no doubting the anger in his posture. Seth’s hands shook like an old man and he clasped his bag, the one that held his camera. They both jumped as the reins snapped. The rhythmic clopping of the horse’s hooves offered no comfort today.
“Your partner is already gone. Seth will leave tomorrow night,” said the Amish patenonkel. “The three of you should never have returned after your rumspringa if you weren’t going to abide by the rules. Neglecting to pay my tithe from your illicit photo studio is bad enough, but photographing my niece?”
Chills ran down Amos’s spine. For three years they had run the studio without paying the mafia one cent. Now they were toten because he fell for a beautiful brunette with hazel eyes. She had looked so seductive in that black dress, her bonnet clasped between her teeth as she undid her bun. Just the thought set his heart pounding with desire. The pictures had been beyond gorgeous.
“Punishment is necessary, Amos, but Emma shouldn’t pay for your transgressions. From now on you shoot for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Don’t be late tomorrow morning.”
“Sir?”
“For your wedding to Emma. You owe me healthy enkelkinder.”
Hey Loony.
Stop it, Bobby. You’re such a pain in the butt.
I choke on sobs as I run my fingers over the photograph in Mom’s old album. My brother and I were arguing as we hiked that day, barely even noticing the views that mom captured with her camera. We were twins, fighting was what we did. This image is burned into my mind. I can’t believe mom saved it all these years. I wish I could forget that day, or better yet redo it. Even after twenty years, the pain is still fresh.
Make me, Loony. Loony Louise.
I said stop calling me that.
A little shove was all I gave, just to make him stop teasing. Bobby fell back into the railing, laughing the way ten year old boys laugh. I remember his eyes widen with surprise and then terror as he teetered farther back over the rail.
Bobby!
I reached, but his fingers barely brushed across mine, like two feathers in the wind. Then he was gone, tumbling down into the water and rocks. He didn’t even cry out as he fell. There was a pause, then a splash and a crack. I stood there numb, watching a red streak taint the water below and my brother float slowly down stream. Mom screamed, but it sounded far away. All I could do was gape.
Tears splash onto the plastic of the album. If only I hadn’t pushed so hard. If only…
I’m sorry Bobby.
