I pulled my t-shirt over my head. I scratched my back.
"Hold still," said Anton. He lay back on the bed and held the camera to his face.
"Smile."
The flash blinded me, I couldn't see.
"Do you want something to hold on to?"
"A hand rail?" I said.
"No problem," said Anton. His voice was husky and low. "Hold onto this."
|
No comments:
Post a Comment