Friday was finally here. Lens Flare was going to come back today and Apple Bloom would finally get to develop her film.

The filly yawned and stepped out of her room only to have her ears assaulted by a heated argument sparking between her siblings. She couldn't hear anything being said until the apparent end of it once she reached the middle of the stairs.

"You deal with it yer way, Ah'll deal with it mine," growled Big Mac.

Apple Bloom got to the bottom step just in time to see her brother storm out of the kitchen and then the front door, slamming it shut with a hind leg.

"What was that about?" asked Apple Bloom as she sat in front of her grits.

"Never you mind," muttered Applejack shakily.

Apple Bloom uncomfortably scooped a few spoonfuls of the mush into her mouth while her sister covered her face with her hat, trying to gather herself. She came down too early. She'd have to eat very slow in order to run out the clock on her breakfast.

"Ya don't finish that bowl, it'll be waitin fer ya when ya come home," grumbled Applejack as if reading her mind. "Ah ain't cookin' fer the pigs, hear me?"

"O-okay," replied Apple Bloom weakly.

---

Regular class took forever and it was impossible for Apple Bloom to think about anything but photographs. When the non photographers left and Lens made his appearance, Cheerilee brought up the subject of Apple Bloom's old film.

"Here," said Apple Bloom, holding up the roll of film to him. "Ah found this in mah camera; it's been in there fer years."

"How interesting," smirked Lens, taking the film. "It's like opening a little time capsule. I love that. This film is no doubt expired, so the images will likely be muddy or grainy but they'll be fascinating to explore."

"Ah'm pretty sure those're the last pictures daddy ever took," added Apple Bloom.

"I'll be extra careful with them," he promised sincerely. "I can't use it to show you what we do first though because that has to be done completely in the dark. Remember, class, once you get your film out of the little roll, exposing it to any light, including the magical variety, will ruin it. You have to do this part all by feel in a pitch black closet or with your hooves in a black bag. Obviously that makes it a little difficult to actually demonstrate what to do, so I brought this already ruined film just to show you."

The students watched as the photographer expertly coiled the strip of film around a spool and placed it in a sealed cannister. He held it up before the group triumphantly. "Now, once you get it in here, it's safe to open up the closet door and come out with it. Then what happens is we pour developer solution in the top of the container, wait a few minutes, rinse it out and you've got a roll of developed negatives. Everyone get it? Let's have everypony do a couple of dry runs before doing it blind in the dark."

The students fumbled around with their practice film snaking off of their reels and falling to the floor. The photographer gave them a few minutes before addressing them again.

"Alright, who wants to go first?"

"I do," blurted Rumble, raising his hoof exuberantly. He went into the closet with his roll of film. He struggled a bit but returned a few minutes later with his film prepped for development. The rest of the students processed through and then Lens prepped Apple Bloom's found film. He then used it as the example for the rest of the development process while Apple Bloom tended to the roll she took. She was on pins and needles as she watched the timer and waited. Finally it was finished and the class began fishing out their developed negatives to much audible elation.

Apple Bloom examined the found roll first. She couldn't make sense of the unruly curlycue strip of images so she cut it into smaller strips and placed them in protective sleeves like Lens Flare had suggested. She set them on a light table and pushed a little puck-shaped desk magnifier over them, scrolling slowly through the frames.

It didn't take long for her to find that the images were not anything like what she'd expected. They weren't old family photos or pictures from a trip. In fact nearly every image seemed unique and unrelated to the rest as if they were all taken randomly at any given time or place when inspiration struck. Some of them lacked any clear subject at all and there was an ethereal fogginess to them thanks to the age of the film.

One picture looked like a closeup of the inside of somepony's mouth. Another depicted an unidentifiable pony laying in the dirt, facing away from the camera. One showed hair clippings scattered across a tile floor or counter space. Apple Bloom frowned in confusion as she saw what looked like a partially decomposed bird skeleton sitting in dark, fetid-looking water. There was one just of an empty corner of a room. There was one of a rotting bushel of Apples with flies swarming around it.

She felt a pang of familiarity, seeing a shot looking down the upstairs hallway of the farmhouse.
Apple Bloom squinted her eyes at the frame. Although it was difficult to see, far away at the end of the hall there looked to be a blurry, roughly pony shaped figure staring back at the camera. In the negative it was ghostly white with pinpoint black dots for eyes. She wasn't quite sure if it was actually someone or just damage to the film combined with some other element.

The last three photos on the roll were the only ones with clear relation. It looked like a stallion and mare on a park bench, kissing passionately. She couldn't recognize either of the ponies and it made her wonder why the photo was taken. Did daddy really take all these, wondered Apple Bloom.

As she examined the next frame, she saw the stallion kissing his partner's neck. Her eyes were closed but her mouth was open in sensual ecstasy. The expression was titillating in a way Apple Bloom had never experienced and it shocked her. It was all she could do to tear her eyes away to the next image where the stallion's hoof had found its way between the mare's legs. He was still kissing her neck. The viewpoint angle was strangely skewed. The subjects didn't appear to be aware they were being photographed and that made it all the more obscene and somehow indescribably thrilling.

Who were these ponies? Did daddy even know them? Why take these pictures? Why couldn't she stop looking at them? She wasn't exactly sure what was happening in the image but she knew the scene wasn't meant for her and she shouldn't be looking at it and therein was the captivating magic of the sight.

"Did you find anything interesting?" asked Cheerilee, abruptly appearing at the filly's side.

Apple Bloom winced in surprise. "Uh, not… really?" She scooted the magnifier over something less salacious. "Ah mean, it is interestin' in it's own way but not exactly what Ah was hopin' fer."

"Oh, I'm sorry but I can't wait to see the photos that you took."

"Oh, yeah, Ah guess Ah should look at those too," she replied.

That night, Apple Bloom laid on her bed, holding a little cardboard frame she made up to the light of her lamp. She looked through the square cutout as she reviewed every single negative again. She'd have to wait a whole other week before they learned how to print photos in the dark room, so she'd be stuck fantasizing about which pictures she'd want to make.

Her opinion of the weird and grotesque images on the found roll had softened the more she looked at them. She decided, in fact, that some of them were actually quite good. There were even images on the roll that she wanted to print… but without anyone seeing. Apple Bloom framed the last negative in the square and stared into the unknown mare's face. She could almost hear soft moans emanating from her agape mouth.

Apple Bloom was snapped out of her weird reverie when she heard Winona growling. She set the negatives down and peered over the side of the bed at her dog. She wasn't sleeping. She was standing and the fur on her back was sticking up. Apple Bloom looked where Winona seemed to be looking, then all around the floor but she saw nothing.

"What is it, girl? 'nother rat?" She continued looking around the room until the growling subsided and Winona laid back down in her nest. Apple Bloom blew out the light and listened for tiny scratches or scurrying in the silent dark while visions of the mare's face wove through her mind.

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