A Snapshot in Time

How many times have I asked? Sometimes I would

need to dispense a dose of my best flattering, I’d even

stoop so low at times as to beg and plead. One would

think I was starving or had this irresistible craving for

something beyond sweet. On occasion, I would state

my case, like a senior statesman or a polished ambas-

sador from some foreign land negotiating a treaty of

critical consequence. There is no breech of the peace

at stake, nor a veiled threat of war here, although this

could be considered by some as a surrender of sorts.

Some claim it’s a bad hair day; others will say that

they are not now nor have ever been photogenic; it’s

against the graven-image clause professed by your

religion—For whatever reason, some folks just don’t

want to have their picture taken. I can respect that,

but this is for posterity. Later when you have aged or

passed away, your family and friends will have this

record of you as you once were. Should you still ob-

ject, I will turn around and walk away. And perhaps

when you forget that I even asked, I may snap a candid

shot of you in passing. See here, that was twenty-some

years ago. We both were much younger then. I stood

over here watching, waiting for just the right moment,

and you were completely unaware, striking the perfect

pose over there. Now see, that didn’t hurt a bit, did it?

Chris Hanch 6-28-17