[ WP ] An artist skilled in photorealism loses a loved one . He/she starts creating pictures of their late loved one , posts them onto social media and creates fake stories to give them context .

The soft, enveloping darkness of the room wrapped the man up as he immersed each print into the developing chemicals, a soft slish as the print slipped underneath. Behind the man hung rows of pictures. They all shared the same subject, a lovely woman with wavy, dirty blond hair. Behind her, the backdrop of her latest trip, this time scenes of Japan. 
 
 A thumping on the door, some muffled yelling drew the man's attention to the darkroom's exit. But he was n't done yet. Still one more roll to develop. A tear dropped from his chin and mixed with the developing solution the current photo was immersed in. He could still picture the trip, from behind the camera's shutter, this one of Ophelia in Nara, feeding a mob of deer that had gathered. The sun felt radiant on his skin, or so he imagined. He did not know who took the picture, only his envy of the one who traveled with Ophelia. It did n't matter though, as long as he could still develop the pictures. 
 
 He brushed some hair out of his eyes, wiped some of the solution off on his uniform, and moved on to the next print. One more roll-surely more would come though, dropped off by Ophelia as she returned from her latest trip. She was such a outgoing, lovely woman, and the man could n't help but anticipate already the next trip he would take with her, surrounded by the gentle blackness of the darkroom. One more roll-why did he keep worrying about this? He brushed it aside and moved to the next print. 
 
 At the door behind him some thumping began, but the man ignored it this time, focused on the development of his trip with Ophelia. On the ground in front of the door, left where the man had despairingly dropped it, lay yesterday's newspaper detailing the terrible plane crash over the Atlantic ocean and the names of those lost. The yelling, resumed, the owner of the shop now worried as to why his employee had spent an entire night in darkroom, and why his employee was now refusing to leave. The man in the darkroom did n't care though. One more roll. He moved on to the next print.
