My Love Of Photography - Original Writing

Decent Essays
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…show more content…
He had walked this way many times and had never noticed this tiny old gallery. He then slowly opened the door. The wooden floors creaked as he walked, the painting on the wall was chipping, and one could hear a pin drop for the room was entirely empty except for the quite young employee at the counter. There were very few photographs hanging from the wall, and he thought to himself that he would not be purchasing anything that day, until he saw it. As he was about to turn back around and walk out, something caught his eye. His hand unwrapped from the handle of his briefcase, and it dropped to the floor making a thumping sound. His eyes were opened wide with the look of complete and utter shock, and his body went numb. For a moment he felt as though everything in the world had disappeared and the only thing visible was this photograph. He was in awe of the beauty and the emotion that this photo portrayed. “It can’t be.” He whispered to himself.
He had remembered that his mother had generated one last collection before her passing. It consisted of 11 photographs that no other photographer was capable of taking. Her talent and ability to convey such inspiration and joy through her pictures was the thing she was most known for. She was so unbelievably talented that her work was just mesmerizing. “Why did she not show me this last photo?”
This single photograph hanging on the wall of this shabby gallery resembled everything his
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