Today's piece is from a fictionalised piece. When I say fictionalised, most of this actually happened, but I am exaggerating it quite a lot and some elements of it ran away with me making it a piece of fiction with a non-fictional background to it. It was based on my attempts to take photos in Shinae, none of which worked. This is the photo that I ended up taking that day.



“What are you doing?”
He looks on incredulously as I ignore his question and continue snapping away. It has been a bad night and I am not in the mood for being disturbed or made to feel like I am a crazy person. Which I may well be. I am not denying that. I just don’t want to be made to feel like one, especially not by him. I take the shot.
“Gah!” I scream it out in frustration. “It’s not right.”
He leans against the window and starts shaking his head, not quite believing what he is seeing. People are walking past – not a lot, but one or two every now and then – and I am sure that they are giving me strange looks and wondering to themselves about these foreigners and the drugs that they bring into the country. I try again. It is still blurry. Nothing is working the way that it is supposed to. My hands can’t keep still, my body shivering from the cold consolidated by my damp clothing. My butt is starting to go numb.