I Married a Photographer

There are times in life, when events just fall together.  Those times leave me feeling somewhat uneasy.  I’m a realist, logical, level-headed a bit of a concrete thinker.  I have a plan for almost every situation, hence why Dean is so interesting to me.  On occasion, I have a difficult time reading him and where he is taking things.
Yesterday we were out on the dreaded house hunt, driving around the school district, keeping our fingers crossed for that house we can call home.  In our unplanned path, we found a familiar road that led us to a one room schoolhouse.  It wasn’t boarded up or in terrible shape.  Dean grabbed his camera and told his model to take her place.  Inside the building were about 6 desks, in various stages of destruction, a stripped hard wood floor accented with three busted windows on either side.  The walls were painted bright green which hadn’t seemed to dim since the original application of the paint.  To the front of us was the wall-O-chalkboard and behind us was a rusty sink, counter top and drawers.
What Dean captured there was a juxtaposition of ideas.  A lonely girl sitting at her desk, learning.  Written on the board “Fuck the Rulez”.