Click on image to enlarge.

	Regular				Club
You Pay:	$0.55				$0.47

eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Some artists use their work to keep the world at a distance. Westin used it to embrace the world he could never have...

eBook Publisher: Fictionwise.com, Published: Blood Muse, ed. Esther Friesner, 1995
Fictionwise Release Date: March 2005

7 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [179 KB], eReader (PDB) [27 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [13 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [13 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [75 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [85 KB], hiebook (KML) [38 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [38 KB], iSilo (PDB) [11 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [14 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [42 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [22 KB]
Words: 3906
Reading time: 11-15 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

The timer clicked, a cicada in the dark. Lifting the tongs off their rest, he swirled the paper gently; watching, judging. Good to go by the rules, better to work by instinct. Finally judging it complete, he lifted the sheet out of its bath, placing it in another shallow tub and turning the water on, cold, over it.

The music played, one cd after another, continuous shuffle so that he never knew what would come up next: Melissa Etheridge, Vivaldi, the exotic noises of a rain forest. It suited his mood, prepped him for the evening's work. For now the lilting strains of "The Four Seasons" kept him company. Tugging at his ear where it itched, he studied the image floating face-up at him. Satisfied, he lifted it between two fingertips, shaking some of the wetness off. Turning off the water, he transferred the print to his right hand and reached out to flick the toggle switch on the wall next to the room's exit. Stepping into the revolving door, he pushed the heavy plastic with one shoulder and emerged from the darkroom.

Blinking in the sudden fluorescent lighting, he cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure that the warning light had gone off, then carried the print over to the line strung across the far end of the studio. Clipping it to the line, he stepped back to examine the other prints already there. Several, most notably the three shots of the hookers talking over coffee, leaning intently across the table to get in each others' faces, pleased him. Others were less successful, but overall he was satisfied. Checking his watch once again, he took off the stained apron he wore, hung it on a hook beside the door, shut off the stereo, and went to take a shower. Time to go to work.