"You must be a photographer," he said, unable to conceal the smile that graced his expressions. Funny that. Well for Poseidon it was more a hobby than a job nowadays, but he still had hundreds of prints stowed away in cupboards and little black cards that stored thousands at a time stacked up in drawers.
There were one or two precious ones hanging on walls around the house - ones of people he cared about, people who could be with him even if his house remained empty.