I hid behind the lens

Today I did not pick up. I knew who it was before the phone rang. I just took my camera and went.

The old depot looks the same. Same paint. Same light in lines through the broken roof. I stood there and felt nineteen. That scared me.

I shot a wedding. I shot a man sleeping in the shade. I shot a kid with a blue balloon. I filled two cards. My hands stayed busy so my head could not think.

It got dark. The streetlights were off. My phone was at four. I walked fast.

Back at the dorm Greta asked where I was. I said shooting. She said what. I said Johannesburg. That was all.

I know I have to call him back. I know. I just do not want to hear his voice tonight. I am tired of being the one who left.