Sydney Gossett is a photographer from Dallas, Texas, where she explores the beauty and wonder of the world through original photography. Her work draws inspiration from nature, wildlife, architecture, and the often-overlooked details of everyday life. With an eye for color, light, and atmosphere, she strives to capture moments that evoke emotion, spark curiosity, and encourage viewers to see the world from a different perspective. Through her photography, Sydney celebrates the extraordinary within the ordinary, revealing the beauty and stories hidden in fleeting moments.
Through a Prism
The sun sinks at a right angle to the Upper Bay. Beams bounce between the brownstones of Brooklyn and the hills of Staten Island. There’s a shade of blue between the two.
“I really wish that weren’t the case.” he says, joining me at the window.
We stare out from eight stories up. The door closes from behind. Still, we can hear the whispers of the doctor and her students reviewing.
“I really thought we had it,” the youngest doctor claims.
“I think he’s the one moving to Texas,” I say. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Do they know we can hear them,” my partner asks.
“Why did she wait so long?” a doctor with the voice of a bell rings.
“That one is an angel.” I confess. We exchange a silence. Until,
a loud beeping comes from next door. I point to the adjacent wall. There’s a scattering of feet following my finger. They collect on the other side. Then it hits. I stare at three small succulents, a tea pot, and a hand painted card with a red 33 on the front.
“The doctor said they normally don’t allow teapots.” I tell him.
“That’s nice.” He walks over to brew before asking, “Jasmine?”
The noise next door amplifies. He is focused intently on the small porcelain cups. There are splotchy blue cats on each. Slowly, the pot boils. Finally, he hands me one, half-full.
The noise has progressed. We hear carts, quick sharp barks, and regular updates sounding more irate. The movement remains, but has settled into a thinner tighter space.
“They all fight it.” I stare aimlessly at the bridge.
Still pools gather at the edges of the Verrazano’s piers. Two hundred feet above, the cars seem to twinkle. The water below, however, remains dark and taut.
The planets begin to appear and the ward settles into its muted normalcy. He speaks.
“She was,” he says.
“Just stop.” I interrupt.
He doesn’t. Shadows appear. They trickle onto the wall from under the door. I roll my eyes up. He stops just short of my neck. His words forcing me to stare down the Buttermilk Channel. Perpendicular to the water, the sun is three quarters gone.
“She said it’s lucky.” I down the hot tea.
He pauses, then continues.
“In a way,” he says, “she’s right.” He's all bent up in the window.
I’m too slow. Everything shows. So, I open up, and fire from the hip.
“You don’t know what love is.” His eyes stay the same, but it takes him down.
I sit on the bed while he slouches in the window. There’s a red stain on the left corner. It isn’t mine. The rest of the sheets are fresh and white.
I watch his reflection as he peers out the frame. He stares through himself. Picking his teeth before turning.
“No, a month is better than a year.” He lets it hang.
I refuse to suffer his gaze. I look towards Lower Manhattan. Dragging my eyes up floor by floor. As the sun finally disappears, there’s a flash of green. It flickers on the horizon, just long enough to linger in my mind. Then, it’s gone.
The room’s light suddenly feels sifted through a prism. Like gazing at stars, I see what was. Not what is.
“I’ll be alright,” he whispers.
“Maybe,” I say.
He tucks me in. I smile and interlock my fingers. They’re resting on my breasts.
“Do I look peaceful?” I ask with eyes closed.
He doesn’t answer. My hands turn pink.
“You know.” I grab his arm. He stares down in fright.
“I wish it were you.”
He begins to sweat, and smell of musk. Just like my grandfather at church.
Lila-Josey James is a trans woman living in Brooklyn with her dog Estelle. Her recent work appears in Boudin, 6/26, CafeLit 9/26, and The Words Faire. She enjoys tea parties, getting into trouble for the right reason, and aimless walks.
