The Capture of Gerald Newhouse #FFFC

Image Credit: Ross Sneddon at Unsplash

Gerald Newhouse sat on the stool with the lighting filling his face with bright light. It was almost blinding, but he was so excited to be posing for his company’s newest publication that he could barely contain himself with the delight he was feeling. Gerald worked for a company that focused their time on working cold cases, and he was going to be honored as the newest addition to the group that worked with law enforcement to solve old crimes that had fallen off the desk of lazy detectives.

As he sat there on the stool, he pondered how satisfying the entire experience had already become in his life, and he could not imagine how good it would feel to solve a case. He knew it wasn’t about the money or the recognition. He just wanted to help people, especially the families who had suffered for so long. As good as it felt to be sitting there with that bright light in his face, he knew that it wasn’t about him. It was about them…the families of the missing and the murdered…They did not know what happened to their loved ones, and he wanted to be that person for them. He wanted to deliver the news that Sally or Joe was still alive and that he found them. He wanted to give closure to the families whose children and family members were never going to come home.

Gerald wanted to be their light in a world that had been full of despair and heartache because they never knew what fate met the ones that they loved. It would happen. He knew it inside of his big heart that filled his chest with hope.

Just then, the photographer said, “Okay, we’re ready. You can smile or stay neutral. It’s up to you.”

Gerald did a close-mouthed smile, and said, “Ready.”

The flash popped into his eyes a few different times as it captured his picture, and he did not flinch one bit. The light did leave traces of the flash for a few minutes. He awaited the proof to be presented to him. “That should do it, Mr. Newhouse. Tell the bossman I should have these ready by noon tomorrow. Congratulations!”

“Thanks! I’ll let him know.” Gerald exited the stool, shook the photographer’s hand, and walked out the door of the photo studio feeling like the world couldn’t stop him. It was a day to remember.

This was written for Fandango’s Flash Fiction #144.

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