"Can you see me?" Betty asked.
"You’ll have to come closer."
"I can’t. You come closer. Or adjust your lens.”
"Ugh." Lucy sighed and adjusted the lens on her camera. Looking through, she saw her friend Betty clearly, half slouched on the old wooden swing, one arm raised, clutching the rope tied to the tree branch.
"How do I look?"
Lucy clicked the snap button.
"How do I view it?"
"You can’t," said Betty, hopping off the swing. "It’s an old camera."
"Come on, it’s your turn now."
"Do I have to?"
"Yes! Don’t you want to look back in years to come and look at these?"
Reluctantly, Lucy skipped over to the swing and assumed Betty’s previous position.
"Will we still be friends in…years to come?" said Lucy.
"Of course…why wouldn’t we be?"
"I don’t know."
Lucy always seemed simple minded compared to Betty. At least, to their friends, Lucy was thought of as the simpler one. She hardly brushed her hair in the morning, and usually wore a different sock on each foot. But Betty knew a different Lucy. One that asked questions that made Betty think.
"Well, don’t you still want to be friends?"
"Well then? By the way, Lucy, stop swinging. I’m trying to get a picture." Betty pressed her eye to the eye piece of the camera.
"Well…what if you go off with the other girls?"
"You know, the others we hang out with at school. You’re more like them than me."
"Well…what do you want me to say?" said Betty, before taking Lucy’s picture. "You can jump down now."
"Promise me. Even if all we do in the future is talk now and then."
"How about this," said Betty, winding the camera off the tripod. "We go develop these now, and you can keep mine, and I can keep yours."
"I’ll put yours on my wall, so that I don’t forget, even if we drift apart."
"Okay. And I’ll do the same."
"Good." Betty set the camera down and began folding up the tripod.
"Don’t forget the camera."