All the Angles
"Lean lower, bend your knees. You have to get the angle right."
Rick knelt on the cement, his knees freezing in a puddle of sludge. He squinted at his iPhone like it was an alien relic. "Like this?"
"I can't see. Just take a few," Maya said. She twirled through pose after pose in the light of the street lamps. Looking over her shoulder, brushing hair over an ear, a smile that lit up the night.
Rick snapped photos like his life depended on it. His night depended on it, anyway. "Don't you only have like four followers?"
"And counting!"