( open ) sigh no more,

[AUDREY ANNE FRANCO]

Audrey hadn’t had many opportunities to pull her camera out yet on tour. For years, she had had the terrible habit of shoving a camera in everyone’s faces. One couldn’t always rely on memory, especially if the subconscious was too selective, so she preferred to capture moments in a way that she could look back and remember forever. That was, perhaps, why she had become a journalist. Because every article she wrote had a purpose. Someone out there had a reason to cut out everything she wrote and store it away so they could look back and remember a certain event in their lives. Was it always good? No. But bad things build character and shouldn’t be blocked out of the mind.

Still, film was much more personal. Although she had a way with words, description could only go so far. It was tough to capture the true feel of things. Her mother’s laugh. How her siblings socialized. This type of media was mostly for her own benefit. Almost all near-perfect moments she had experienced from the time she was fourteen was stored on a disc or on her computer. All bad moments, well- it was weird to pull out a camera to film someone crying, but she had footage upon footage of her pouring her thoughts and feelings out on camera. Those were never to be shared, because she hated talking about her feelings to others. But to herself? There was no harm in that.

She had plenty of things stored away. Some of it she often looked back upon to remember the good times. Her parents. Her siblings- Andrew, most of all, when he was sober. Cyrus. A lot of Cyrus. Hell, he had his own damn folder on her laptop. Most of the footage ended up to be irrelevant. Thirty second clips of an impromptu dance party in her living room. A fit of laughter. Today? Her bunny.

This tour was a big move in her life and she hadn’t really pulled out her camera, but she was itching to. Even just a little piece to say “hey, this is what I did while I was in California”. Something to distract her from everything with Cyrus. So she gathered up her bunny and her camera and walked the five minutes it took to get to a charming open field that she’d found upon arriving originally in Cali. When she got there, she set Thunder down and laid down on her stomach, pulling out her camera.

”Sup Thunder. Say hi.”

The bunny wiggled its nose, but stayed where it was instead of attempting to hop away.

”No hello? How rude.”

She laughed to herself, positioning the camera so it captured the animal in the frame, crossing her ankles.