I took these pictures the night before the operation. I was restless and went walking; it was a clear night, and the sky seemed oddly right for a UFO display.





As I was taking pictures, a car pulled up. I assumed it was the police, or someone sent to hassle me for trespassing. But it was only a Goth couple scouting locations for a zombie movie. The girl had copious tattoos and an endearing ring through her nose; I almost asked to take a picture, but her friend's stony demeanor made me think better of it. I wished them luck and sauntered home.





Speaking of digital photos: I got an email from Sprint. My tech "ambassadorship" ends on Oct. 3, drawing unconditional use of my free Samsung to an unceremonious halt.





I've become pretty addicted over the last six months. Not to the phone, which I don't use that much, but to the camera, Web browser and multimedia frills. I might have to cough up some actual money for a service plan, if for no other reason than the luxury of catching up with email on the fly. Or I might go back to my super-cheap Virgin Mobile pre-pay phone.

(I might be able to keep using the Samsung's digicam despite not having access to Picture Mail. They sent me an adaptor, which I haven't really looked at yet.)