Stefanie hates having her picture taken and she always turns away from me when I get out the camera. 

What I find, when I develop the photos, are gray images of her cashmere sweater; her fingers are small and delicate and she holds a cup of coffee and a cigarette over her crossed legs and jeans.   The silver toe ring on her right foot reflects sunlight into the camera and it looks as if she's stepping on a star.

Her face is only a black and white smear of giggling smile and her hair a cloud.  I have a hundred pictures of her blur and only a few of her face. She's always loved being undefined.

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