Unmarked… but not empty. |
Lisbon. Late afternoon. Overcast. Light like ash on glass.
I didn’t expect much when I took the first picture.
The film was already inside, I didn’t load it.
I just wanted to see if it worked.
I placed a small sculpture by the window. Nothing special. Soft light. Simple shape.
Framed it.
Click.
The photo developed clean. Clear. Almost perfect.
It didn’t feel like I captured something; it felt like the camera wanted to show me something.
There was a strange quiet to it.
Not peaceful. Not eerie. Just… waiting.
Maybe it’s the film. Expired, probably. Maybe that explains the colors, the softness, the dreamy glow around the edges.
Or maybe it’s something else.
I didn’t feel like that photo belonged to me.
I pressed the shutter.
But it didn’t feel like mine.