Black and White
by Ann Faison
I am in the midst of finalizing the third draft of my book and I need to stick with it, so this week I thought I would post an excerpt. This is one of my favorite paragraphs from the book:
She opens a cabinet and takes out chemicals and trays, clearing space for them in the little room that doubles as a laundry and storage area. She has to put away a pile of Kate’s clothes before she can pull out the enlarger. When all the chemicals are poured into the trays and the sink is set up for rinsing and the drying rack is plugged in she turns out the lights. The black reminds her of the panic under the machine. What is she really afraid of? Death has never scared her before but on the table the fear of pure black overtaking her was terrible. She turns on the enlarger to set up the easel where the paper will go, the square of white like the irradiated rectangles on her chest. She stares down at the light considering how it oxidizes silver into grays and blacks to make a satisfying image, marveling at the power of it to change things. She carefully places a negative into the metal holder, lifts the lever that opens the enlarger and slips the plate in. When she closes it the room darkens enough for an image, upside down and backwards, the whites black and the blacks white to appear.