In the darkness of the one-room house were several pieces of decaying furniture. The legs of the wooden table, placed at the center of the room, were eaten by unseeable termites, and had to depend on spider webs that resembled a crochet cloth, from how intertwined it was, to keep their balance.

The chiseled rocks that made up the sink were now entirely filled with mold. It had become the warm nest of dark worms and, perhaps, the resting place of unlucky bugs.

On the opposite side of the room was a book-filled shelf, almost as tall as the ceiling, on the verge of falling apart just from the weight of the dust covering it alone. And the books, as one could foretell, were not in any state to be read ever again, but were finely aged as the bookworm’s feast.

The rock walls of the house were full of thick threads and vines, so much that one could say they were the true foundation of these ruins. A wooden door stood upright on the left wall while a sliding window made of what seemed to be stone, and without any glass left unbroken, rested on the wall to the right. But because it was a moonless night, there was little to no light coming from outside.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Now there, right beside the decaying bookshelf, was a small cabinet about half its height, with all its knobs rotten and the little doors hanging open by a single nail, with stone blocks below as supports; it was the least damaged furniture in the house.

And, on top of the cabinet, covered in dust all over it, with the exception of its glass front, was an old model of the portable camera. With a square body and its own support for flat surfaces, it wasn’t the definition of practicality, but the folding tube of the lens made it easier to carry around and also to set up. A relic of the modern age was now resting in this shabby abode.

So, what does it make me, then? My thoughts surfaced after the monologue.

To which I also responded, out of boredom. An intruder within a relic, maybe.

When my sight could finally see a little more than what the limited range of the lens reached, a sudden realization hit me.

I am this camera.