forsyth | A belated Drabble

Georgie loved his camera. Probably a little too much. It remembered for him, so he didn't have to. Once upon a time, he'd had reams of photographs, obsessively organized in boxes that were nearly falling apart. Now, though, now, society had joined him. He had many cameras now. A camera in his phone, in his tie, in his watch. And gigabytes of photographs, stored in neat virtual drawers, locked away for only him. A jpeg breadcrumb trail through his past. When he felt the need, he'd take out his old camera and stroke its curves, more familiar than any lover's.

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