I stare at the photo for a while, trying to form words as its taker waits patiently. “I like the contrast of the colors.”

The student just stares at me, hopeful light dying in their eyes. “But you don’t actually like the photo itself.”

“No! That’s not at it. I just–” My gaze drops from theirs back to the photo they’ve turned in for the assignment. I turn it on a slant, trying to get a different perspective with hopes of not actually drawing  attention to what I’m doing. But even tilted, I still can’t quite get an idea of what they were trying to accomplish here. At least with the guile-free disappointment they are giving off anyway. “The photo itself is good. It just doesn’t fit the assignment.”

“What?” Oh no, now the disappointment is bleeding toward anger. The new emotion has me feeling less bad about the situation even though I doubt I should feel bad about it in the first place. “You said one still and in color! You, you–”

I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to stop the growing tirade. “Yes, I did say that. Do you remember what the subject was supposed to be though?” The other hand holds the photo back up again, turned more toward him than me this time. “A fruit basket, Jared.” I let go of his shoulder and point toward the eaves of corn. Heck, even the tomatoes were bad enough no matter what they technically were botanically. “A fruit basket.”