“Do you think this works?”
He pushed back his sweaty hair and turned to her. “Where did you find that?”
“In here. Do you?”
He turned back to his box. “No idea–I haven’t seen that in years.”
She headed out of the room, returning with a laugh. “It does!” Click, whirr. She shook the film, waiting. “Look!”
Sighing, he turned. “Really?”
Handing him the photo, she grinned. “Want to take some naked pictures?” He grinned back.
She posed while he took several shots. She was laughing as the doorbell rang.
Grabbing her clothes, she said, “Damn, pizza is here.”
2 thoughts on “P is for Polaroid”
Such wonderful spontaneous fun. It’s even a shame to interrupt him because of the pizza.
The pizza is always on time. Or always at the wrong time.