I decided to get back into film photography recently, though I can’t exactly explain why. I have my mother’s old Rebel G, the one she used when I was a kid to take those hundreds and hundreds of pictures of my brother and me.
The batteries were dead when I tried to turn on the camera last week, because unlike DSLRs, film body cameras lack a bright LCD screen to remind you to turn the camera off when you’re done. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I used it, so it was no surprise the batteries were dead. A few days later, I picked up a six-pack of little silver 123As and popped two into the battery slot.
Turns out, I’d already shot 21 pictures on that roll. There were three frames left—I was stunned, but immediately curious about when exactly I’d loaded the camera last. I fired off the remaining three shots, capturing the not-so-rare scene of Ben eating pancakes for breakfast. I wanted to know how old that roll was.
