The Fourth Flash

She fed the booth a quarter. She said she wanted proof. Four little pictures later... Ask her what she knew. Harbor Lanes was closing, the rental shoes stood paired. Ray said he'd meet me after ten; his blue comb was still there. Then the booth curtain moved once, her white heel met his loafer, and one warm strip came curling from the slot beside the door. June's silver charm was shining. Ray's collar filled the frame. I heard the girls behind me, but no one said my name. First flash, Ray was laughing. Second, June leaned through. Third flash caught her mouth near his, the picture I called proof. I ran before the fourth flash. I would not let it speak. Three little squares were all it took to make a liar out of me. He caught me by the payphone. I slid his ring away. He said, “Just read the final frame.” I said, “There's nothing left to say.” June reached to take my wet coat. I pulled it from her hand. Then they walked out different exits, and neither one looked back. The pin boys killed the lane lights. The last ball struck a ten. I folded up the picture and saw the first three again. First flash, Ray was laughing. Second, June leaned through. Third flash caught her mouth near his, and all the girls said, “Proof.” I hid away the fourth flash. I kept my anger clean. Three little squares could tell me only what I chose to see. At home, the strip sprang open from the pocket of my coat. In the fourth frame Ray was standing, holding up my folded note. My words showed through the paper: “Lean in close. See what he'll do.” His other hand stopped June's face. He wasn't leaving me for June. He left because I sent her. He left because I knew love could answer any question except the one I put it through. First flash, Ray was laughing. Second, June leaned through. Third flash froze a frightened turn and made a lie look true. But the fourth flash held my letter. The fourth flash named the cost: I did not catch him cheating; I photographed my trust getting lost. Now all four frames stay together. No scissors make me clean. The fourth flash keeps on showing what the first three couldn't mean. Four little pictures later... I keep the part that shows what I did.