the smuggler’s bible


Tolliver gets his whole kit set up in the middle of a field right as the grey morning fog completes its metamorphosis into a slow drizzle and then a steady rain. The tripod is tilting a little bit, so he finds a flat rock to nudge underneath the short side.

“Not long now.” he says, wiping some droplets off the camera lense.

Farther up the valley, the dam starts to swell. Tolliver adjusts the focus, water rising past his knees, and wonders how quick he’ll have to be to get the shot.

“They are gonna love this shit on insta.”