Eighteen

She thinks about herself as an extra in the world and plays a slide show in her head of her various castings.

In her mind, she slips the slides into their slots and enjoys the sound this makes. She places them in carefully. Sometimes sequentially and others randomly. It takes time both ways. Once they are in place, she turns on the projector to start the show.

The slides are stranger's pictures. Pictures with the intention of capturing a moment. She is not relevant to their memorable moment.

These pictures bring her joy because she likes looking at moments through someone else's lens. She thinks about what this person is inspired to capture. What is memorable to them or beautiful. It does not matter what she is doing in the background.

Since she has lived at the beach, she has accidentally run through a lot of photos. These aren't as exciting for her to view though. Most people take the same pictures at the beach. They pose in front of the sunset or the big houses on Ocean Drive. She prefers to look at the ones from when she lived in London and New York. She is wandering through Camden market. Or having a coffee at Balthazar. She remembers walking by the bronze bull outside her office every day.

The slide projector clicks. There is a flash on the wall. There is an excitement before the next image. She has lived the moment and now is a spectator. She pauses for reflection, then moves on.