Antique Bastards

2. Hannah

2: Hannah

The light is wrong.

Sage is at the kitchen table, backlit by the window over the sink, and I can’t see his face clearly. Just the outline of him. Shoulders hunched. One finger tapping that slow, steady rhythm on the scarred wood. The metronome before the difficult measure.

I know this shot. I’ve taken it a thousand times. Subject in shadow. Decis…