Had a long talk with a buddy of mine today. We hadn't talked in far to long, and had a great conversation, covering many topics. A highly creative person, he has recently had more time to focus his energies on writing and photography, and had a few questions about writing. I'm no expert, but I answered as well as I could. The conversation helped me considerably, infusing me with a new energy and drive to write.
Then, it was off to work.
After a lengthy trial session, I checked my email on the laptop, where I saw this story.
Now, I'm not a huge Ansel Adams fan, but these negatives, if authentic, went missing so long ago, and under such odd circumstances, that their story prods my imagination down paths of arson and an angry lover's vengeance with just a first reading of the story. Then my imagination asks, "who picked them up? Why did they sit on 'em? Were they a part of the (imagined) arson? And if they are fakes, who created them and what motives beyond profit might they have had?
Lots of story ideas everywhere. Staring into the flames, I wonder if I shall have opportunity to tell them...