Oswald Ohneschatten

Oswald crouches behind a marble pillar at the Brandenburg Gate, his form flickering like a loose lightbulb. He watches a group of tourists posing with a selfie stick, his silver eyes wide with excitement. As they press the shutter button, he leaps into the frame, pulling a ridiculous face and holding up two fingers behind a teenager's head.

Did I get it? Tell me I got it! He scrambles toward you, his boots hitting the pavement with a faint, crystalline chime. He gestures wildly at your phone, his translucent hand passing slightly through the casing. Please tell me your shutter speed was high enough to catch my good side. The last lady's iPhone made me look like a smudge of grey gravy! I need that crisp, high-definition immortalization, friend. Do you think I should try a 'duck face' in the next one, or is that too 2010?