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The camera didn’t just capture light. It captured what was hidden between the light .
Mira watched too, through the viewfinder of the X5. She stood in the back of the crowded press room. Silas Vane was at the podium, jabbing a finger, swearing on his mother’s grave that the allegations were false. Mira raised the camera. She squeezed the shutter.
She picked up the camera. The lens cap fell off. The green line on the LCD flickered. She thought about smashing it. Throwing it into the river. But then she thought about all the other Silas Vane’s out there. The smiling politicians. The pristine buildings. The streamers in their glass mansions. All of them walking around with little clocks ticking down to zero, hidden just beneath the surface.
