(short story published on PostcardShorts on 06-Jun-2013)

His teeth, I remember. They pretty much glowed on that grey day. Not that you can really tell from the photo, obviously.

That afternoon, me and Jane were out for a stroll down by the river.

"You know it's our five month anniversary today?"

I didn't. I guess stuff like that matters to girls.

"Ask one of them blokes to take our picture. Be nice to have a souvenir."

These two smart fellas were chatting as they came towards us.

"'Scuse me," - I pulled out my phone, flicked on the camera and showed them the screen - "would you mind...?"

The taller guy flashed me this huge smile. Those teeth nearly blinded me.

"Not at all, young man. How do you want me?"

I gawped as he ran through one arty pose after another.

"I told you," said his friend.

"Er, not you, mate. Me and her." I nodded towards Jane.

He pulled an awkward face. "Of course. It'll be my pleasure."

Me and Jane mugged up for the camera as he made a big show of taking the first shot. Soon as we heard that shutter noise, though, the battery conked out.

"Such a shame," he said. It wasn't his fault.

As we were saying our goodbyes, Jane said: "Aren't you...?"

"Yes, yes, that's right," said the man, smiling again. They walked off and disappeared into the gloom.

That photo wasn't much cop, as it turned out - no work of art, to be sure - but we got it printed out in Boots and bought a clipframe. When people come round, it's a nice little conversation piece.