The Golden Hour
It's still dark outside. Good, at least I'm up on time today. 5:55. I have no time for breakfast, not if I want to still catch the golden hour; I have no choice, I must simply get dressed, and go lest the rich warm light turns icy cold before I get my shot. Where are my goddamned trousers? I'm cutting it fine as is...I don't have time to fuck around! SHIT! WHERE ARE THEY?! What did I even do last night? Fuck...it's all blur. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I can't afford to lose this light, not today. I need that shot, I need that pay. The sky is still dyed navy blue, I have time left, but not too much, I can tell. Oh my god! The kitchen! They must be in the kitchen! Again. Fuck, why?! I'm no nudist. YES! Oh my god, I'm right: they're here! Awesome, time to go. I won't even bother locking the door, I have no time. All I've time to do is grab my bag.
The engine is wheezing. It doesn't like the cold. Still, at least it turns. Its rough growl will turn into a warmed purr soon. It's still too early for anyone to be awake. I can rush just that little bit faster. There's nobody around right now to hear or report any tire squeal. Good. The porcine shift change is happening now too. Good. God knows I've gotten enough tickets, I can't bear anymore. They won't catch me, I'll go fast and – what the fuck is that – it can't be! What time is it? 6:22. The sky is a pleasing shade of purple. Fuck, it's coming, I think I got the time wrong, it's too early. How long did the pants take‽ At least the engine is warm now, I can push it harder, now it doesn't growl, now it roars. At least I'm not going far, it won't be that risky. If I can just go slightly faster I KNOW I can get the perfect shot. Come on girl, you're an old mare but you've got it in you, GO! Oh, my, GOD! What is that‽ It can't be! Oh my god...IT IS! Holy fuck almighty – it's a Kelvin-Helmholtz instability. Oh my god! it's so beautiful. The way the orange waves are crested gold. Fuck. They only last a few minutes though, that much I know. I NEED to go faster. Fuck it, if I get this shot I can pay any ticket, of that much I'm sure. At least it's early and the roads are empty, at least I can rush.
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A characteristic buzzing woke Tom. He wondered when he would finally get a good night's rest without being woken by calls. Ugh. “Hello? What now? It's...6:45 man” groaned a sleepy Tom in hushed tones so as not to stir the warm body dozing next to him.
“There's been an accident – a fatality. You know I wouldn't normally call you for something like this, but it's near your place, and Katie's off. Can you just take it? If you do just relax the rest of the day, otherwise I'll see you in at 10.”
“Fuck. Are you serious with this shit? Again? It's fucking Saturday. When do I get a damn day off? I fucking hate fatalities. You know that!” Tom paused to let his pointless rebukes sink in, but he knew he had no choice. “Ugh, Fine. But this is seriously the last one.” Tom said in a sleepy tone growing more irate with each word. As if it were. As if. Tom had no choice, both he and the woman on the phone knew that was the case. “Thanks for being a trooper Tom.” she said. Tom swung his legs around, and over the side of the bed. He rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out and then began to ratch for his favored pants on the clothing strewn floor. He slid into them, and then, with the rest of his clothes held tight in a fist, he eeked his way out of the room, tiptoeing so as not to wake her. As he walked by he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. She hated him working fatalities, and if he woke her he knew she'd try to stop him. That always made it so much worse. She would understand. Tom was sure. At least they could spend the day together this way. Outside the room Tom slipped into the rest of his clothes, he slung a big camera bag's strap around his shoulder and made his way out the door. He dared not lock it, for he had a fancy bluetooth based lock but one sadly far too noisy to use while she was asleep. Tom yawned deeply, while his car's headlights announced its unlock. He got in and turned the ignition. Tom wasn't happy; he hadn't even had time for coffee. Oh well. Tom glance passed over the scene outside his driver's window, “Cool clouds!” he thought passingly before setting a cigarette alight, and slowly setting off. Tom sighed, supposing that it could be far worse; at least he'd seen some cool clouds; even if it was a fatality, at least he'd be shooting in the golden hour.