The monk had never seen such interest in his own face before, nor such flying machines, never thinking that his granddaughter would one day be sweating out her days packaging the software that I might use to enhance this photo with a touch of a button, or that I would waste my time writing such fiction, or was this very look left behind for a reason, this dispassionate stare, maybe it was left just for me, so that I might find it and never to buy that software, leaving this photo just as it is and maybe that factory might close  and his granddaughter might have more time to stop by and visit her grandfathers grave once and awhile.

– Josh Fleming



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