"I could take a photograph from the exact same angle every hour one day."
I had many ideas for the old building. It seemed to lean against itself to stand, silently begging me to immortalize it as I drove by. I was the only one with these wonderful ideas in my mind. I was the only one it begged. It was 2006.
"Perhaps I should paint it on itself. One of its own boards with its image painted on."
Its warped, decayed siding glowed deep red, the white trim flecked with mold and rot. Windows, mostly shattered, served as trellises for ivy which worked to camouflage the whole. I was driving past again, as I did everyday. I admired it. Not a ninety degree angle left- stubbornness held it up. The roof was falling in on itself but still sheltered the building enough to assure me a history lesson and a face full of webs awaited me inside. It was 2007.
"A photograph every season. One with leaves turned. Then one with snow. Then spring rains."
I knew where I'd hang the art in my home. I thought of my mother, and a photographer friend. They would definitely want copies. I drove by, admiring the old-timey soda advertisement cocked in the window. Large painted letters, though bleached and pale, were still visible on the side of the building with the lowest bushes and scrub. It was 2008.
"What if I shot time-lapse photography? People posed motionless all day as a clock advanced in a whir beside them?" I wasn't sure what I would do with this video. I wasn't sure if it was my best idea. No matter. I had many other ideas. My mind was a veritable Salon. It was 2011.
I drove by my dilapidated building today, ready to look to the right and be begged by it. It was gone. An asphalt scab striped with the muddy prints of heavy construction equipment were all that remained. The wood, the stone, the ivy, the rot, the begging. Gone.
"Crap," I protested as I drove. "I didn't get a chance."