Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, I never have and never will.

The Photographer

Snap! Click! Flash!

Snap! Click! Flash!

A tall man with black hair and rectangular glasses ran around his house taking pictures. Before him, running and giggling, was a small child of only five. Long blonde hair held up in pig tails and bright green eyes. She giggled as she waved at her father. This little one was not shy to the camera like other children. She loved having her pictures taken, she loved her daddy who took those pictures.

Swoosh! Flip! Swish!

Swoosh! Flip! Swish!

The many, many rolls of film are developed and then packaged for delivery. The old mailman smiles as he pulls the box from his bag and places it in the mail box. He knows it's of more photographs. Hell, he's been shown some of the photographs before. Usually every time he delivers the box of pictures, he is greeted by the man of the house who then happily opens the box and shows off his works of art. But today, he is not greeted by a man, nor woman. He finds this strange, but continues on his route.

Sniffle! Drip! Dab!

Sniffle! Drip! Dab!

Tissue in hand, a woman of her early twenties stands holding her five year old daughter, while she dabs away the tears from her crying eyes. The child sniffles as she morns the loss of her father, her daddy, her photographer. In the child's hand, she holds a small photograph. Little fingers are shown on the edges of the frame, but the focus of the picture can be seen clear as day smiling a big and bright. It's of a man with black hair and rectangular glasses. No one else, just him.

It's a one of a kind photograph. Because the photographer is always behind the camera, and rarely in front.

A/N - Please review. Constructive criticism accepted. No FLAMES (Thats Roy's job only). Please look in my profile oo0AnimeChild0oo for all my other stories. And again, thanks for reading.

"Write a wise saying and your name will live forever"
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