She stared at him, joyous and pure from a photograph from not so long ago. He could still see the hope in younger hims eyes. That vain belief that he's the kind of boy she'd like to kiss. That she'd love to discover sex with him in every wild and pure way that a contortionist you have sex. She stared at that camera with joy absolute, the kind of joy that takes the best actors years to replicate becuase it was so unclouded. So unfettered, there was no scheming, no irony, no tinge of sadness. She was a person who genuily believed in the eternal goodness of life. She was leening in to fit into the picture. There were four of them. The beautiful contortionist, him pressing himself close to her hoping she'd noticed and reciporcate, their straight friend who always looked like a lesbian and some ass hole she was friends with. The four of the stared with varient levels of purity to there joy. On such a silly drunken night it was hard not to be happy, bowling is one of the few pure activities left in the world. It always meant silliness and competitivness but never sin. Never blood doping or knee caping. It was just bowling. The three non-contortionists were cynics though and even through the whiskey-haze and the smiles there was still that tinge of irony. Of the pouted lip and the raised eyebrows saying, "Oh yeah, that's cool." in the most sarcastic tone the reader can muster. He continued flipping through photo's there was one of him hefting her tiny frame up into the air as she bowled from her perch on his back. One with the whole crew dog pilled in a neightboring lane full of silly energy. Picutres of peoples sides as the photographer shot from the hip and missed. Pictures of girls with low self esteem pressing there brests together to "jokingly" force them up in a picture of "ironic" sluttiness. That everyone with two eyes and an attentice look could tell held very little of the desired jokingness and just lots and lots of the less desirable, "daddy issuses" and "self-loathing" although those have there place as well. Then there were the series of photos taken in order to get one photo to come out right that really only needed to have on of but since the film had been used it might as well be displayed. He kept coming back time after time to the most beautiful shot of her. Smiliing brightly. He realized that's why they wouldn't have worked, he was so dark and wrought and she was lightness in human form. He would have crushed her in every way a man can crush a delicate bird like her. They could have had some remarkable sex though, he mused.