My Love Of Photography - Original Writing

1839 Words Oct 26th, 2015 8 Pages
He had been around the globe and back, looking at thousands of photographs, year after year, day after day, second after second, trying to fill this hole he had inside of him. It had been eight years since he lost his mother after a long and hard battle, but it had felt like a century since she was with him. Her love of photography carried on through him, and her work would never be forgotten. Her unique style and perspective was like no other, and throughout his career as a buyer of the most beautiful and most famous photos, he had never seen one quite like hers. He strode down 42nd and 8th avenue in his suede black suit, white tie, leather loafers, and he had his briefcase in hand. The loud sounds and action of Time Square surrounded him, and everything reminded him of his mother. The smell of the delicious hot dogs from the carts reminded him of his mother’s barbeque dinners, the sound of conversation coming from the strangers around him reminded him of how much his mother loved to talk, and lights reminded him of the light in his mother’s eyes when she was doing what she loved.
He tried coping with the loss of his mother through buying thousands of photographs to help him feel as if his mother’s passion was still burning throughout him. They piled high in his apartment and grew by the day. He continuously saw parts of the city that he thought his mother would have been able to take a mesmerizing picture of.
As he turned the block on his way home, he paused and…

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