Captivated by the mystery, his eyes remained glued to the photo. He stared not at the distorted and diffused image of leaves, but at the white empty space that separated them. He had not seen this when he clicked his camera, thinking he was preserving the beauty and uniqueness, the intricacy of design inherent to the leaves and to that moment.
He ignored his wife's pleas to stop, to come to eat, to sleep...to be normal. In stillness he stared and asked the white empty space questions unimaginable to him before. "Is love real? What about happiness? God? Dogma? Truth? Am I real? I am?"
Alone, he stared for hours and days until time lost meaning as did everything else. The white empty space engulfed his mind and his spirit until...gradually, he realized it had been inflicting a lethal violence upon him. He was dead.
Strangely, his death woke him up. Awake he knew he was alive. He could see reality without the need for a camera, a shutter, a filter or anything to interpret his sight. From then on he lived only to see the naked Truth.
He saw everything. And he watched as others still slept comfortably, unwilling to see... the white empty space.
This has been a magpie tale hosted by Willow. Thanks Willow for this opportunity to write something instigated by your prompts.