Picture Perfect
O'Hare to Brussels
7a.m.
O’Hare airport.
And a very pissed off Jon Walker.
“Why did she have to wake me up at 4am?” he grumbled as he made his way to the terminal.
‘She’ was Cady, who helpfully called Jon to make sure he wasn’t late for his flight.
He marched towards the designated terminal, ready to board the flight, when the phone in his pocket vibrated loudly against his palm.
Silently he opened the message he had received. Sorry for waking you up so early, you have a great time and take some brilliant pictures to show me when you get back. If you take enough, maybe you could put on your own show :-) x
Jon couldn’t help but let a smile form on his lips, Cady always knew how to make him feel better. He let his thoughts wander onto the possibility of having his own show, in the whole time the gallery was open, he’d never had his own show. Cady had the first one, and he’d had a few for some up and coming photographers in Chicago, but he’d never thought to have one himself. Maybe it was because he thought it might be a tad pompous to have a show at his own gallery…he wasn’t sure.
Once he was on the plane, Jon couldn’t concentrate on anything other than catching up on the sleep he’d missed earlier that morning. For the whole eight and a half hour flight, Jon slept, not even the minor turbulence when flying over Ireland made him bat an eyelid.
He missed breakfast and lunch, but he wasn’t bothered, he was just glad to have gotten some shut eye.
“Sir?” a soft female voice said.
Jon’s eyelids fluttered open and he was met with a very pretty woman grinning down at him.
“Sir, the flight is close to landing, can you please put up your tray table and fasten your seatbelt.” She delicately pushed her chocolate brown hair out of her face and behind her ear.
He did as she said, rubbing his eyes in a vain attempt to wake himself up.
After an unusually swift exit from the airport, Jon hailed a cab and recited the name of his hotel to the driver, whom he was very thankful to, regarding his excellent English.
“Here you go sir, that’ll be €20 please,” he asked Jon, who promptly got out his wallet, which was now lined with the colourful notes, which Jon thought were much nicer to look at than US dollars.
He grabbed his suitcase from the trunk of the car and made his way into the hotel.
“Here you go sir,” said the blonde woman at the front desk, handing Jon the key card and it’s replacement.
“Thank you very much.” He said before going up to the seventh floor to his room and dumping his bags inside. Barely having a look around the room, he grabbed his camera and went out on his search for pictures.
In the short hour that he was walking around Brussels, he had gotten at least 30 great pictures. Jon was astounded as to the beautiful architecture in the city, it was breathtaking – he loved it.
Walking around the city, he began to lose track of where he was, taking lefts and rights, not really knowing where he was going. Soon enough, he ended up in a small, village-like lane.
Quite a few people were around, everyone seemed to know everyone, front doors were left open without the fear of someone coming in and trying to steal things. It was real community.
O’Hare airport.
And a very pissed off Jon Walker.
“Why did she have to wake me up at 4am?” he grumbled as he made his way to the terminal.
‘She’ was Cady, who helpfully called Jon to make sure he wasn’t late for his flight.
He marched towards the designated terminal, ready to board the flight, when the phone in his pocket vibrated loudly against his palm.
Silently he opened the message he had received. Sorry for waking you up so early, you have a great time and take some brilliant pictures to show me when you get back. If you take enough, maybe you could put on your own show :-) x
Jon couldn’t help but let a smile form on his lips, Cady always knew how to make him feel better. He let his thoughts wander onto the possibility of having his own show, in the whole time the gallery was open, he’d never had his own show. Cady had the first one, and he’d had a few for some up and coming photographers in Chicago, but he’d never thought to have one himself. Maybe it was because he thought it might be a tad pompous to have a show at his own gallery…he wasn’t sure.
Once he was on the plane, Jon couldn’t concentrate on anything other than catching up on the sleep he’d missed earlier that morning. For the whole eight and a half hour flight, Jon slept, not even the minor turbulence when flying over Ireland made him bat an eyelid.
He missed breakfast and lunch, but he wasn’t bothered, he was just glad to have gotten some shut eye.
“Sir?” a soft female voice said.
Jon’s eyelids fluttered open and he was met with a very pretty woman grinning down at him.
“Sir, the flight is close to landing, can you please put up your tray table and fasten your seatbelt.” She delicately pushed her chocolate brown hair out of her face and behind her ear.
He did as she said, rubbing his eyes in a vain attempt to wake himself up.
After an unusually swift exit from the airport, Jon hailed a cab and recited the name of his hotel to the driver, whom he was very thankful to, regarding his excellent English.
“Here you go sir, that’ll be €20 please,” he asked Jon, who promptly got out his wallet, which was now lined with the colourful notes, which Jon thought were much nicer to look at than US dollars.
He grabbed his suitcase from the trunk of the car and made his way into the hotel.
“Here you go sir,” said the blonde woman at the front desk, handing Jon the key card and it’s replacement.
“Thank you very much.” He said before going up to the seventh floor to his room and dumping his bags inside. Barely having a look around the room, he grabbed his camera and went out on his search for pictures.
In the short hour that he was walking around Brussels, he had gotten at least 30 great pictures. Jon was astounded as to the beautiful architecture in the city, it was breathtaking – he loved it.
Walking around the city, he began to lose track of where he was, taking lefts and rights, not really knowing where he was going. Soon enough, he ended up in a small, village-like lane.
Quite a few people were around, everyone seemed to know everyone, front doors were left open without the fear of someone coming in and trying to steal things. It was real community.
♠ ♠ ♠
Comments? Probably another chapter tonight :)