212on.com







In the heart of the city, where neon signs flickered like dying fireflies, there stood a peculiar place: The Forgotten Shutter Supermarket. Its windows were smudged, and the sign above the entrance had lost half its letters. But if you stepped inside, you’d find a treasure trove of memories—captured, frozen, and abandoned. The shelves sagged under the weight of dusty cameras. Their lenses, once eager to frame laughter and tears, now stared blankly at the world. Each camera had a story etched into its metal skin—a thousand clicks, a thousand stolen moments. Old Yashica: With its leather-wrapped body, it had witnessed clandestine kisses in moonlit gardens. Lovers whispered secrets into its lens, believing their passion would last forever. But love fades, and so did the Yashica’s allure. Now it sat, forgotten, its viewfinder clouded with regret. Polaroid Land Camera: The life of parties, graduations, and reunions. It spat out instant memories—grinning faces, silly poses, and the occasional blurry dog. But when digital cameras arrived, the Polaroid lost its magic. Its film packs vanished from shelves, and it was left to rot alongside broken tripods. Kodak Instamatic: A relic from the ‘70s, it had seen disco balls spin and bell-bottomed dancers twirl. Families huddled together, squinting into the sun, while the Instamatic clicked away. But time marched on, and the world moved to pixels. Now it lay discarded, its flashbulb burnt out. Nikon F3: The war photographer’s companion. It had captured soldiers’ bravery, refugees’ despair, and landscapes scarred by conflict. But wars ended, and the F3’s shutter closed. Its owner, now old and frail, sold it for a pittance. The supermarket swallowed it whole. And then there was Agnes, the ancient Rolleiflex. Her twin lenses held secrets—lovers’ trysts, stolen glances, and tear-streaked faces. Agnes had seen it all. She’d been there when the soldier kissed his sweetheart goodbye, promising to return. She’d witnessed the artist’s struggle, the musician’s joy, and the writer’s despair. But Agnes had grown tired. Her gears creaked, and her viewfinder was a murky pool. She longed for rest, to close her shutter forever. And so, one rainy afternoon, she whispered to the other cameras: “Remember the moments, my friends. Remember the laughter, the tears, and the sunsets. We were witnesses, and now we are relics. But perhaps, in this forgotten place, we can find solace together.” The cameras nodded, their shutters echoing Agnes’s sentiment. They formed a circle, lenses facing inward, and shared their stories—the stolen kisses, the sunrises, the children’s first steps. And as rain tapped on the roof, they wept for the lives they’d seen and the lives they’d lost. The supermarket owner, an old man with rheumy eyes, shuffled in. He glanced at the cameras, then at Agnes. “You’re special,” he said, wiping dust off her lens. “I’ll keep you safe.” And so, Agnes found a new home—a dusty corner near the window. She faced the street, watching people hurry by, oblivious to her gaze. Sometimes, a child pressed their nose against the glass, curious about the ancient contraption. Agnes smiled. She might be forgotten, but she still had stories to tell. And perhaps, just perhaps, someone would listen. And so, in the quiet of that forgotten supermarket, the cameras whispered their tales. They spoke of love, loss, and the passage of time. And Agnes, with her cloudy viewfinder, became the keeper of memories—the silent witness to a thousand lives. And there, in the dim light, she waited. For someone to remember. For someone to care. For someone to click the shutter one last time. Note: The Forgotten Shutter Supermarket exists only in the realm of imagination, but perhaps it lives on in the corners of our hearts. 📷❤️

22:07 Houston - 02:07 Sao Paulo - 22:07 Mexico City - 23:07 Bogotá - 12:07 Shanghai - 13:07 Tokyo - 04:07 London - 05:07 Frankfurt
  212on.com    
You tube Google Facebook Instagram
Twitter Snapchat Gmail Bing
english
 
  Alerts Social Media
Watch LiveTV Listen Radio
212on.com
 
 The Forgotten Shutter
Now Playing
Sonnet II - Quetzalcoatl creates man with corn and water. Sonnets.
 
The Temple of Quetzalcoatl is the center of the world and the feathered serpent is the spine of the universe.
 
212on: english
The legend of Quetzalcoatl
 
More Articles
The legend of Ometeotl
A long time ago, before there was time, there was Ometeotl, the god of duality. ...
The Paradox of Quetzalcoatl Quetzalcoatl discovered corn and taught it to man, but at the same time Quetzalcoatl made man with corn and water.
Legend has it that Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent, was the god of wisdom an...
Seventh part of the legend of the children of the fifth sun and the prophecy of the children of the corn
The descendants of the children of the ninth sun are the guardians of time, and ...