But the focal point was the window. The entire eastern wall was a single pane, overlooking the canyon of downtown. And the rain had just stopped. Below, thousands of wet rooftops and streets caught the last cyan light of dusk and the first gold of streetlamps. The city glimmered —a fractured constellation of light on black asphalt.
Glimmer stepped through the mirror—or rather, the mirror became a doorway. And suddenly the penthouse was no longer empty. It was filled with the ghosts of every photograph Diamond had ever taken: floating exposures, fragmented limbs, eyes that blinked out of sequence. TushyRaw - Diamond Banks - Glimmer
She undressed slowly, not from seduction but from necessity. The silk of the chaise against bare skin was the only warmth. She lay facing the window, camera in hand, and began shooting from the hip—blind exposures, trusting the lens to find what her eyes couldn’t. But the focal point was the window