Flash in the Bunker

The apartment got too quiet, so I slipped out the heavy lobby door and marched straight to the corner photo booth. A thick black curtain was hanging loose, practically begging for inspection. I dove inside. Pure darkness. Down on the metal footrest, I locked my long tail around the steel pole of the swivel stool and scrambled onto the textured seat. Right on the wall console, a round red start button glowed in the shadows. I backed up two inches and rammed my padded body straight into the switch. Whir, click—BLAM. A blinding white flash detonated across the cubicle, freezing my blank stare against the dark drape. High-voltage reconnaissance complete.