Photonicals

A Mysterious App

Olive and Jack stood shivering as they waited for their lecturer to show up, not that they were ever going to attend this particular lecture.

As they waited, an older student appeared at Olive's elbow. "You seen this app before?" she asked.

"What app?" Olive asked, craning her neck at the device in the woman's hand.

"This one. It's called Photonicals. It has keyworded photos of seriously anything you can imagine. You just type in what you're interested in, and it appears!"

Olive pulled out her phone. "What was it called again?" As the woman spelt the name out, Olive searched for it.

No results.

"That's weird," the older student said. "I downloaded it on mine just fine yesterday..."

Jack got bored looking up and down the alpha chicks at the other end of the walkway and finally looked over. He sized up the middle aged lady talking to Olive, taking in her unwashed jumper, jeans that looked like she'd come from an art studio, and boots that might have been scuffed. Or maybe it was just paint.

"Have you seen this app?" she asked him.

"Nope."

Olive elbowed him. "You don't know what app she's asking you about, it could be Facebook."

"Yeah, right. If it was Facebook she wouldn't be asking, and I have a dumbphone anyway."

The older woman scratched the back of her neck. Stupid itchy tags on jumpers these days, she thought. "Well, let me show you. Where would you guys rather be than waiting for a lecture?"

Jack closed his eyes. If he said half the things he was thinking, Olive would dump him. He floundered around in the depths of his map of the world, looking for a safe bet. Eventually he settled on "The underwater hotel in Dubai."

After a muttered, semi coherent "underwater... hotel..." and lots of tapping on her phone screen as she typed on the stupidly, impossibly small keyboard, the salt and pepper haired woman brandished the phone with a flourish. "Check This Out!"

Olive took the phone she was handed, tilting it so the sun wasn't glaring off it. The phone was showing a lovely view of a hotel room. She could see across the top of a perfectly made bed with cushions to a window, behind which schools of fish swam in panorama. The fish swam behind the glass, twisting and tilting at perfect angles to catch glints of sunlight and show the full iridescence of their scales.

Olive breathed out slowly, enjoying the appearance of peace in the room. She closed her eyes, breathed in... and realised she couldn't hear anything. The sounds of the other students, footsteps walking past, chatter in the courtyard, rattling of a gate somewhere... everything had faded away into nothing, and she hadn't even noticed.

She opened her eyes.

Olive and Jack stared at each other, wide eyed, as they realised they were IN the photograph. Their feet stood on soft carpet, the fish really were moving, and the linen was exactly as it was on the screen of the phone.