Better late than never...?

I have a few times claimed to have photographic memory, but only in the most diluted sense, or only in a very selective way. I remember all my photos, every single one of the aproximately 20 000 pix I've got on my harddrive. If I see a picture of a flower or a few strands of grass, I can tell you where it was taken, why I was there, who I was with, what the weather was like etc. Sometimes when I drive by some town I have never stopped in, I see a house or a tree and some image I snapped through the windscreen 4 years ago pops into my head. I can probably tell you what softwear I used to edit it too, but then again there are memorable difrenses between Gimp, Adobe Lightroom, Photoshop and MS Picture Manager. But enough about that. I figured I'd try something new. I selected one of my many pictures randomely, and will now attempt to «remember» the circomstances of it. But I perfer to remember it creatively... and fill in the blanks... and by this I mean that I will probably just make something up. I mean.... come on. Who wants to read some randome day in the life of me? Nobody!

BTW: This text appears not to contain even a single typo, so I suspect Open Office Writer has finally given up this spell checking thing completely :P

So here it goes! A rainy evening in November! Or maybe some other time. My computer claims it was taken in the afternoon of Christmas day, 2008, but that doesnt seem right. Anyway, here it is, along with a wholy madeup story:

Bam, bam, bam goes the rain. And it wount hold up even for a moment to let you breath, to let you think or to let you see properly. I wish it would at the very least remind me, remind me why I'm out here, alone. I'm already soaked through and it's not over yet. There are still stuff to be done and steps to be taken. And still... My flashlight finds an abandoned skateboard. Something happend here, I'm sure. Someone left here in panic I imagine, or not by their own force. I paint picture of devils and demons in my mind and systematically neglect the lighter, bland scenarios. Soon, before I move on, this is burned into my memory specifically defined as a dark oman, a most sadistic hint at what's next. Around me the dark is getting denser, consuming my surroundings slowly. My flashlight is getting more pircing.

I'm it, the most visible thing for miles.

Whoever's out there have me at such a disadvantage that it's laughable. The wind is making all the creapy noises that wind makes and the trees are dancing in solute. I'm not laughing. Definetly not. I turn off my flashlight, my beacon of hope. I'm on my own now. I want to run. Instead I hunch down so noone will catch my siluette against the still bluish sky. I sit, I watch, I wait. The dark can't last for ever, right?

But, hey! What am I doing out here? The world ain't directed by Stephen King and if the devil even exists, I suppose he ain't on my case full time.

Or maybe it's a she?

Maybe it's me!

I exhale.

A wistle through exposed teeth.

Wouldnt that be neat!

But now I should probably go.

Because there's reason to believe it isnt so.

I pull my hood over my head and stalk off. You'd think if I had any extrordenairy dark powers I'd be onto it by now. I wouldnt hold my breath for such a revelation.