"Opening Literary Lines To The Moon" ~ One Late-Night Steemit Adventure ~ Original Photography and Story in Opening Lines ~
Late at night, only the Moon is listening.
"Once Upon A Time..."
It Was A Dark And Stormy Night.
A Night Like No Other.
He Hadn't Slept For Days.
A Shrill Scream Cut Through The Still-Night Air.
Like A Feral Tom.
Howling At A Harvest Moon.
In February...?
The Hairs Stood Up On The Back Of His Neck.
Somewhere A Baby Cried In The Night.
Relevance Is A Fickle Companion Indeed.
It Is Later Than You Think.
A Cold Chill Ran Up And Down His Spine.
Like An Electric Current Through A Bare Bulb.
This Light Jacket Is Not Suited.
For A Chill Night In Mid-Winter.
The Full Moon Slid Rapidly Across The Darkening Sky.
He Clicked The Shutter.
Nothing Happened.
He Pushed It Again.
Nothing Happened, AGAIN!
It Is Later Than You Might Believe.
He Saw For The First Time The Error Of His Ways.
Instruction Manuals Seldom Lie.
He Moved The Selector Dial.
Lodged Half-Way Between A and P.
To The P.
The Shutter Fired.
He Cursed In The Darkness.
Looking At The Display Screen.
The World Within Went Black.
It Is Later Than You Realize.
The Clock Struck Midnight.
He Shook His Fist At The Darkening Sky.
And Cursed The gods Of Efficient Photographic Procedure.
Time Was Not On His Side.
Sometimes You Only Get One Chance In Life.
Yet Life Is Full Of Second Chances.
This Time, He Would Do It Right.
He Raised The Camera Skyward.
Towards The Silvery Moon.
Rather Than At His Darkened Feet.
How He Despised Night-Photos Of His Shoes.
It Is Later Than You Can Fathom.
The Camera Fired.
As Design Would Have It.
Again. And Again.
He Let Loose A Deep Sigh Of Relief.
Giving Thanks To The Very Stars Above.
For This Modern Digital Medium Of Image Capture.
Shooting Kodachrome Film.
He Would Now Be A Broken and Destitute Man.
Another Tom Cried Out In The Inky Black.
A Chill-Like Icewater-Coursed Through His Veins.
He Thought Aloud.
It Is Later Than You Know.
He Wished He Had Packed The Better Tripod.
He Had Not.
The Bogen Professional Model 1021.
Now Safely Tucked Away.
In the Broom Closet Back Home.
He Cursed The Luck.
Then Realized This Was Not Luck.
But The Hand Of Laziness.
Slapped Upon His Brow.
Of Potential Reward.
Like A Small BassFish.
Delivered By An Older Brother.
And His Monumental Lack Of Wit.
At Lake Bloomburg.
So Many Years Long-Past.
It Is Later Than You Think.
Traveling Back In Time.
Weariness Washed Over Him In Large Crashing Waves.
Memories Of That Fated Fish.
He Relented.
“A Crummy Tripod Is Better Than Hand-Held.”
“And Hand-Held Is Better Than No Picture Of The Moon At All. ”
~ The End ~
"It Is Later Than You Think" -- from "Remember The Hour."
Whispered, imaginary voices in the dark, sounding faintly familiar, always in my Mother's voice.
Character
Setting
Plot
Conflict
Resolution
The End
Please Check Out My Other Posts, If You So Desire
~ALL ORIGINAL CONTENT~
You have no idea how many bad photos of the moon I have taken. I feel you all the way through your opus-poem! But it looks like you did get some great shots of the moon, after all. I especially like the character, the plot, and the conflict! Here's to the moon and dedicated photographers! :D
Bad photos of the moon are so easy to take. I specialize in them.
haha -- enjoy your nights out there, looking up in the sky! At least the moon is there every day, in some form or another. ; )
That is a constant we can depend on, night after night. Kind of like staying up too late Steeming ( :
That seems to happen more than once in a blue moon, for sure! ; )
Unlike the moon, there is no obvious pattern, beyond randomnality.
Bravo!!!! Excellent post dear friend @ddschteinn, very well done congratulations
Thank you, glad you enjoyed it.
Exceptional. I'm glad you made a post to lead me here. I'll resteem, and maybe a few more will see it.
Thank you so much for the view and comment, it means a lot to me. Even if I had to stoop to whining to get my post out to the world ( : But the vegetable with bad teeth was another fun project. Thanks again, and I REALLY appreciate the resteem. Ta'