Photographic Equations
Rain pattering against the asphalt and his umbrella, Roger rounds the corner of the five-story brick apartment building and trudges into the alleyway . . . the green dumpster brimming with trash bags right where he said it would be. His shoes slapping at a few puddles along the way, Roger lifts the leftmost trash bag—aluminum cans and glass clinking around inside—and finds the little black notebook underneath, the front and back covers neatly sealed together with a button strap. A few raindrops splashing against the front, he picks the notebook up, wipes it against his flannel shirt, and—his pocket just large enough to accommodate it—places it into his jean pocket. The acrid stench of rotting food finally getting to him, Roger backs away from the dumpster and continues his route home.
