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The Perfect Picture

by Jack Revolta Year 8

The sun beats down on an empty street. Shock and disbelief fills the dusty and coarse air, making it hard for me to swallow my own saliva. The Cathedral is in ruins and The Arts Centre is closed. Where, once, there were people wandering, now there are none. The trees lean over. Metal street lamps that seemed so solid are twisted and bent like the straws that you buy at McDonalds — the ones that, at the slightest touch, mould to your will.

I was in my studio when it happened. Everything shook, broke. I was lucky. Others weren’t. I walked around, shell shocked. Everything I knew and loved, shaken to its core. We waited for loved ones that were never going to come, and then I saw it, the perfect picture; the rubble, the trees, the lampposts. The absence of movement.

Now, the rubble is gone, and people have flocked back onto the street. My photo is famous, I am famous, but I am, like others, still shell shocked.

This piece was written at workshop exploring past, present and future. We wrote in different tenses using a heritage photograph of The Arts Centre Te Matatiki Toi Ora in Christchurch.

To view the photograph that inspired this writing go HERE

(c) Write On and Jack


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