Camera- Railing Fall

Greg centered Michael in the viewfinder frame, then pressed the shutter button.
The camera clicked and flashed.
Then it made an electronic whirring sound. A slot pulled open on the bottom, and
a cardboard square slid out.
“Hey—it’s one of those automatic-developing cameras,” Greg exclaimed. He
pulled the square of cardboard out and examined it. “Look—the picture is starting to
develop.”
“Let me see,” Michael called down, leaning on the railing.
But before he could start down the stairs, everyone heard a loud crunching sound.
They all looked up to the source of the sound—and saw the railing break away
and Michael go sailing over the edge.
“Noooooo!” Michael screamed as he toppled to the floor, arms outstretched, the
feather boas flying behind him like animal tails.
He turned in the air, then hit the concrete hard on his back, his eyes frozen wide
in astonishment and fright.
He bounced once.
Then cried out again: “My ankle! Owwww! My ankle!” He grabbed at the injured
ankle, then quickly let go with a loud gasp. It hurt too much to touch it.
...
The four friends gaped at the photograph in Greg’s hand, their mouths dropping open
in surprise.
The camera had caught Michael in midair as he fell through the broken railing to
the floor.
“That’s impossible!” Shari cried.
“You snapped the picture before I fell!” Michael declared, grabbing the photo out
of Greg’s hand so that he could study it close up. “I remember it.”

Chapter 4, 7