This is a picture, not taken, of a sea of faces bobbing above a concrete pool deck horizon, while an instructor on the deck pantomimes different choreographic routines, the older people seemingly disinterested in the slow, repetitive, dance moves, and instead, talking amongst themselves or disdainfully looking around, as young children enthusiastically run around in the background during a swim meet…

This is a picture, not taken, of a thin contrail in the azure evening sky, depicting a meandering  turn towards the distant southwest,  and happenstantially positioned  just above a tall radio antenna on the horizon, completing the image of an idyllic ocean highway…

This is a picture, not taken, of a half-liter water bottle sitting in a Les Mills RPM bike, doggedly kept in view while my body cycles to a pounding, metronomic backbeat, various overhead lights reflecting off the plastic ribs along the bottle and through the water create an oscilloscopic display in sync with the music, which distract me through the intense workout regimen.

This is a picture, not taken, of a dried up spot on the bathroom mirror, normally a nagging eyesore in my peripheral vision, a sign of an untidy room, and a constant reminder of a chore needing to be preformed, but, when viewed from an alternate angle, while standing in front of the sink, a twin reflection of the spot emerges, both superimposed into a hovering image over the cold water handle, completing a smiley face…

This is a picture, not taken, of a young man in a threadbare suit, wearing a V for Vendetta mask, and silently standing in the hot afternoon sun on top of a fire hydrant, while holding a sign claiming that nothing conceals tyranny better than elections, at the same time a woman drives by in an air-conditioned car with a loudspeaker on the roof, asking for people to vote for Bridget Shay…

This is a picture, not taken, of rows of beer foam along the inside of a shaker pint glass, the brewer’s logo on the glass providing a convenient watermark, showing a timeline recording of the recent seismic activity during the drinking of a session beer at a local pub, each foam line placed there from the high tide line of a tsunami, as the glass earth periodically upends and crashes back down to the back of a wooden table that this world rests upon…

This is a picture, not taken, during civil twilight, as flocks of grackles perch along power lines, packed tightly enough together to create the illusion of monstrously thick cables, their tails slowly swinging down then up as they maintain balance in the breeze, unwittingly acting as conductors orchestrating the beat to my radio…

This is a picture, not taken, of a finger print on a glossy cell phone screen, normally considered an annoyance, but given a sinister appearance with two coincidentally located specs of red chilli pepper, serving as eyes for a ghostly specter, balefully staring into my soul…

This is a picture, not taken, of tiny, circular tracks crossing a snow covered sidewalk, breaking me out of a highly focused brisk walk, and causing me to wonder what possible animal could possibly create such a track, only to belatedly notice the tiny crystal in the middle of each footprint, forcing me to come to the conclusion that this animal was part of the kingdom of de-icing salt, and therefore not a threat to my survival…

This is a picture, not taken, of a stately motorcycle rider, wearing a bright yellow Cheerios jacket, his shadow projected solidly on the road towards the left side, except for his quickly flickering head as it matched the varying contours of the grass median…