Yet people don’t study my career-defining photograph for the perfect composition or the shot selection, but for clues to the identity of The Black-Shoed Man, and why on earth he did what he was about to do.
It looks like a casual snapshot, but I had waited there for hours, taking hundreds of shots. See the perfectly spaced, not quite horizontal lines in the foreground. The image of the friendly umpire bursting through them, having finished imposing order on the gridiron. The not quite vertical stripes of his shirt, humanity not quite shoehorned into systematic coherence.
Yet people don’t study my career-defining photograph for the perfect composition or the shot selection, but for clues to the identity of The Black-Shoed Man, and why on earth he did what he was about to do.
EDITOR NOTE
27/3/2022 01:58:26 pm
We've noticed that this story is a shortened variant of Ricky's "La Strega", posted on the same day in the Longer section. We're not sure it's breaking any rules... Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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