His fingers traced their way round the lens and they lingered on the rough edges for a moment, even after he had twisted the picture into focus. It made a satisfying click when he pushed in the cold steal and the room was frozen in a momentary flash. He shifted to the right and refocused the lens before taking another picture, relishing the sound as he wound the film round for the next shot. This was a passion of his, capturing objects for all to see. Capturing it in the beauty of the right light, the perfect angle, and the almost tangible colours; it was his life.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, hold it there.” He said and savoured the click that followed.

He had spent years wandering round the country, trying his best to find a style to fit him. He shed his entire life and family with the burning desire, even his friends dropping off one by one as he was consumed by this obsession. He had grown unkempt and bedraggled in his travels, his appearance mirroring a raving vagrant as he moved from town to town. He had his camera constantly prepared, delicately fingering the trigger in eager readiness to capture those perfect moments.

He was infatuated by the breathtaking scenery. The rolling green hills framed with glorious blue sky, the craggy rock harbouring the crystal blue lake, the verdant forest that seemed truly alive on paper; he searched out and scrutinised every detail of every piece of grass. Beads of water glistened in the morning sunlight and he steadied his cold, shaking hands for what he thought was the perfect shot. But it wasn’t. Despite the life that shone out from the photograph, there was nothing in it. The reflection in the dewdrop seemed unreal, the bent blade of grass was too ragged, and even the dirt around it was too filthy.

He moved into the cities, frustrated with the empty promises that nature had brought him, and he fell in love. The towering giants that shot up into infinity that blocked out the sky with their mammoth presence, the intricacies of the weatherworn stones that made up the majestic church, the lone coffee cup that was in mid flight down the pavement; he was entranced with it all. The cars roared inches near his lens and sunlight danced across the rooftops as he tried to capture the true beauty of life. But the more he saw, the more he began to resent it. The bustling empty life of the high streets, yet another discarded Happy Meal box, the constant noise that he was unable to capture; it frustrated him to no end.

Alone and empty, he looked at the beggar that stared at him through the reflection. He took one last longing look with weary eyes before plunging his head into the icy water. He scrubbed off the dirt and grime that coated his face and reached for the towel in the rail, creating a black smear on the fluffed white. A new man stood before him when the scraggy beard was shaven off, a man with crushed dreams who had to sell out to survive. The job was in four hours. No interview required, just look presentable and bring a camera.

And he had found it. His eyes dilated and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He froze, staring through the viewer with his finger hovering over the trigger; the faultless subject. Something so strange, that he had never even considered it before. The smooth lines, the soft surface, the perfect beauty behind every shot; he was shocked. All those years of searching and the answer was there all along.

“Like this?” she asked, and unbuttoned her blouse to reveal the bounded round breasts beneath.

“Yeah, hold it there.” He said, and savoured the click that followed. He inched closer as her fingers ran down the middle of her chest and over her toned stomach. She smiled a smile that smelt of strawberries, and her eyes were innocent yet alluring. He clicked again and her hand slid down her stomach and under the waistline of her underwear. Her head tilted back, her hair falling off her shoulders and dancing magically around her.

“Perfect.” He said, and the flash filled the room