Fantasy #1:
I arrive at her house. I park my car, and reach across the passenger seat to retrieve my bag. I pop out, quickly cover the few paces to the steps and up to the door. I pull out my phone and text her, “I’m here,” punch the code into the lock, and let myself in. Up the short flight of stairs and on into the kitchen, where she and her tall, athletic body greet me with a warm, albeit brief hug.
She pours me a glass of water and we catch up on the recent goings on in our lives. We gossip: about our friends and their plans now that we’ve all graduated, about boyfriends and girlfriends, about our new roommate assignments.
I pull out the camera out of my bag, and fool around with the settings. I verify that I’ve got the exposure correct, then beginning to analyze the lighting situation in the room. I finish, look up at her and say, “Well, are we gonna do this or what?”
“I suppose,” she replies.
“Shame it’s just the two of us,” I say, “I can’t paint and shoot at the same time”