On the edge of Flicker Alley beneath the viaduct is a soot-stained portraiture studio, Glimviel Lightworks. The dingy old snapshop offers "memorial images", portraits of the departed, some taken just before the final breath, others long after. Mr. Grivven, the shutterman, a master of manipulating the light, works in silence.
He capture more than just what’s in front of the lens.
Just for a second, a blink, liftin’ up that rotted sheet, peeling it back slow, like wet cloth hung too long in a cellar... a quick glimpse past the veil, a look at things half-way ‘twixt life and death. Things caught mid-crossin’.
The lens knows. The camera never forgets.
