Click

He set the timer on his camera. I liked how he worked, easy but methodical. We only had a few seconds to get our shot. He laid on the floor, with his tiny torso that I think he’s low-key famous for. I only had a second or two to recreate intimacy. I rested my head on his chest. I put my cheek and temple against it, its center lined with black fur.

At the last second, right before the camera clicked, he pulled the top of my underwear down. Each time we did this, I allowed resistance to leave. With my head on his chest, even for a moment, there wasn’t a guard.

“What do you do for money, outside of photography?” I asked.

He told me about his managerial day job. We chatted about everyday life, jobs that pay the rent, experiences that hopefully influence creativity. I repeat our conversation in my head when I need to.