Chris was my Canadian, Guyana/Indian mix, who I’d met for a long weekend in Cologne, Germany. He was wandering Europe but living in London. A free spirit that I was totally at ease with. I miss him. Sniffle.
I’d took a picture of him with my camera phone one night at dinner. He said he didn’t take good photos. But I got the feeling, he wasn’t keen on me snapping shots of him like some trophy. He wasn’t a trophy for me and I’d deleted the shot in front of him. Alas, I was left with no photo of him.
Last night, my wife looking for the compact digital camera for some kid’s event. I scrounge in a drawer and check to make sure it’s ready to go. Powering it on, up pops a photograph of Chris (I could have been totally busted). In fact there were several, including a short movie clip. I’d shot them at the Puma store in Cologne and forgotten about it. The photo above is one of those, blurried by his movement.
His photo may be anonymous, butI’m suddenly quite sad. He was/is special and the odds of me seeing him again are low. At 22, to young to realize that few people make an impact on your life. He did in mine.