Nicole's Camera

The room was dimly lit, casting a somber glow over the few belongings that occupied the space. Among them, Nicole’s camera sat on a small shelf, a silent witness to the memories we had shared. It was a precious reminder of her, the lens like her eyes, capturing moments that would forever be etched in our hearts. As I stood there, staring at the camera, I could almost feel her presence, her spirit lingering in the room. I remembered the day we had opened the doors to her apartment after her death, stepping into a place that was once filled with laughter and love but was now a silent mausoleum to a life that had been extinguished far too soon. As we began to pack her belongings, each item seemed to hold a story, a memory of times spent together. My thoughts wandered back to those nights we spent in her apartment, chasing the limelight. The crushing weight of the world seemed in those days, but now that she was gone, I felt a void that no amount of alcohol could ever fill. I was adrift in an ocean of sorrow, struggling to find my way back to the shore. As I picked up the camera and turned it on, it was as if Nicole was there with me, her eyes looking through the lens, capturing the room in full HD. The camera offered a new perspective, allowing me to see the room through her eyes. I could almost hear her laughter, her voice gently encouraging me to find my purpose, my passion. As I looked through the lens, the room took on a new light, each item becoming a piece of the puzzle that would lead me on the path towards healing. The walls, once suffocating, now seemed to offer solace, their muted colors a canvas waiting for me to paint my future. The silence that had once been deafening now felt like a blank slate, ready for the symphony of life to begin anew.

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