Monica raised her camera, aimed carefully, adjusted the focus, and pressed the shutter. The camera clicked, another picture taken. She took a step to the side and snapped another, then another step, and another click. She looked down at her camera to check the pictures, then scrolled through her settings to make adjustments.

“Psst. Hey. Getting good shots?”

Monica looked over at the man sitting in a chair to her right. He was in his mid-twenties, and wearing a suit just a little too big for him. “Uh, yeah,” she said, and immediately returned to her adjustments.

“Cool. That’s a nice camera. I bought a Rebel a couple of years ago and took a few courses, but that one looks much better.”

“Mm.” Monica lifted her camera again, aiming, focusing, and snapping.

“Hey, are you sticking around after?”

“Yes. Have to get family shots.” She took a step to the side, away from Mr. Talky.

“Cool. Maybe we’ll be sitting together at the reception.”

“Mm.” Click. Click. Click.

“If not, save me a dance at least. Maybe more.”

Monica didn’t look at him, but knew he winked at her. She walked around to another part of the room, partly for a better shot of the “I do”s, but mostly to get away from the child.


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