In the streets of New Orleans, where the night holds everything, where days exist for one thing and one thing only: to prepare and rest.

Photo by Galih Jelih on Unsplash
Samuel spends the whole day wandering from one point to another. For him the night gives nothing, not in the monetary sense at least, as the tourists are much more likely to run. Those phones they carry, people usually do not want to go through the hassle of paying for a portrait when they can just click and go.
He has been doing this, photography, for as long as he could remember. In the early 2000s the mere capturing of emotion made him fall in love with it. He crafted ways of giving out something like creation. But it is not art anymore. It is just a means, and not a good one. He has to get too often in people's faces just to have something.
Smile, he says to them. But people do not smile, not in front of a camera anymore. They make faces. Not the teeth they want to show, as that takes too much to manage.
The night arrived and Samuel was just leaving when someone stopped him.
"You want a photograph."
"Yes," the customer replied.
He was elegant, somewhat polished up for the occasion. Not like the usual tourists who wander out from the hotels to see what is going on.
Samuel told him that people were gathering behind him and that it would not make for a good picture.
But the stranger just nodded, something like: I do not care.
So he took it. The man stood blank in front of the camera, so Samuel adjusted his pose a little and asked him to smile.
He smiled. Samuel took the photo and looked down at the camera. A spark from his mouth. Bared teeth, sharp ones, and instinctively Samuel moved back, as if he stood before a predator and had only just realized it.
Seeing Samuel like this, the customer smiled wider.
"Are these what you are afraid of," he said. "Everyone has them here. The fangs."
Samuel did not answer. He sees them all the time. But not like this, not where he feels the aggression underneath.
He takes his things, his camera, and moves in the opposite direction.
Not looking back. Heart racing.
30 May 2026, Freewriters Community Daily Writing Prompt Day 3119: bared teeth
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