Setting the camera on my chest, I reach back across the bed for the bag containing the film paper. Unwrapping the stack of small sheets, I put five of them inside the printer compartment of the polaroid and sit up. I look around the room for a subject, but there's not much. There's my bed, my newly full closet, and some miscellaneous furniture. My head rolls onto my shoulder, shifting my view to a sunlit patch of wall. Thousands of minuscule dust motes dance around in the light, flitting from one point to another. I watch them move from one point to another in a daze but then the sunlight streaming in makes me remember that I can go outside. I stand, looking at the window as I walk out of my room, still gripping the camera.
It's not until
It's not until