Wipe the lens dry; there must be a cracked seal somewhere, because the image keeps fogging up. It's a difficult deficiency to spot during equipment checks, so there's no blame to be placed, save on the procurement of new gear. Still, it's not too humid here, and there's plenty of time to spot her smile and watch her move in the distance. That smile, of course, wouldn't be quite so wide if she knew she was being followed, but such is the nature of the game.
The boss likes to call them models. And, in a way, they are. Certainly they're unwitting and unwilling subjects, but the visual reference is a clean one. A paycheck's got to be earned, after all. This gig is no worse than any other that requires swallowing a semblance of any amount of pride. Still, it bothers the conscience once in a while. That nagging Jiminy Cricket giving a little whistle while a wooden nose gets just a bit longer after a girlfriend asks just exactly where those paychecks come from.
That's not the hardest part, though. The hardest part are the clients. Those sleazy sons and daughters of bitches who demand results before results are even possibly attainable. There's nothing to be done, naturally, and everyone involved knows it. The only people that need to be pissed off less than the boss are the clients. Given the chance, those bastards would eat their children if it got them what they wanted.
Adjust the magnification a bit; she's moving away. Still well within range, but there's no point in risking her disappearing behind a tree and ruining the picture-perfect opportunity. Enjoy her beauty for a bit. There's a sadness involved with knowing that she'll forever remain an enemy, any possibility of love torn away thanks to slanderous words and public perception. Perhaps she'd offer some forgiveness if she knew she had been shielded from such a wicked world for so long. Then again, she probably wouldn't care. There's a price to be paid for exposure, and she surely must have known that before setting off down her life's path.
Check the time; there's a deadline to be met. Thankfully, she's sitting down, waiting for an assistant to bring her something to drink. She could've gotten a drink for herself, but there's that reputation to maintain. Someone needs to tell these people that it's okay to do things for themselves. It certainly would help foster a more generous opinion among followers. But, that's how those who confuse power with being spoiled generally act. Vanity is a powerful drug. It's the reason what's about to happen is about to happen.
She gets her drink. Double-check the position. Everything's good, bystanders haven't noticed anything out of the ordinary. The wind blows through her hair, and there's another realization of how beautiful she really is. This is going to be money.
Hold breath. Click. Close the eye. Click. She's ready for her moment... a moment that will be captured for eternity. Fame incarnate. What a wonderful picture.
Squeeze the trigger.
Don't wait for the photographers to show up.
I'm definitely enjoying your writing these days. I'd put "and daughters" in parentheses for more effect, but that's about it. Of course, I'm not as mean as you.
ReplyDeletePosted by Jessica Lynn on June 20, 2009 - Saturday - 7:57 AM
You think in parentheticals?
ReplyDeletePosted by JeffScape on June 20, 2009 - Saturday - 8:11 AM
You know I do!
ReplyDeletePosted by Jessica Lynn on June 20, 2009 - Saturday - 8:46 AM
Great, Jeff. One of the best I have read from you in awhile.
ReplyDeletePosted by Joe on June 20, 2009 - Saturday - 9:53 AM
....Very cool. I love a good narrative. ....
ReplyDeletePosted by BrAiNs!!! on June 20, 2009 - Saturday - 9:28 PM
Contrast this with "The Tightrope" or what you written in this category since. This has more life and openness. The others are harder, stiffer with the lack of feeling or awareness that this demonstrates. I like this better.
ReplyDeletePosted by Bitsy on June 21, 2009 - Sunday - 11:14 PM
Hey - I'm not anonymous! I'm me!
ReplyDeleteBill Golden at 6:36am June 20
ReplyDeleteNice writing style. So this model would rather be somewhere else, eh?!
Jeffrey Golden at 6:42am June 20
ReplyDeleteWell, by the end of it, she sorta is. Heh.
You get the horror cap this week, Jeff. Great!
ReplyDeleteNow I know what it feels like to be a stalker!
ReplyDeleteMy first time here; I enjoyed your writing.
ReplyDelete(I wasn't quite sure where you were going with this "This gig is no worse than any other that requires swallowing..." since at that stage I was still trying to figure out what was going on, but I relaxed with the balance of the sentence. "... a semblance of any amount of pride." Whew.)
Wow! Nothing more need be said here. This is an amazing piece.
ReplyDeleteInteresting tale --- I agree with Lisa -- was he a stalker, an assassin, or papparazzi -- which ever he may be it was to say the least unnerving to have someone like that unbeknownst to be followed by..
ReplyDeleteJoanny
hehe...similar veins this magpie...
ReplyDeleteTrigger?!! Yikes!! Chilling ice cold, Jeff!
ReplyDeleteArgh. I thought he WAS the photographer - even though there was a niggle of question. Well written.
ReplyDeleteMy first visit to your page...I loved the story. Very well written.
ReplyDeletemagpie tale at working force,
ReplyDeletewitty!
well done!
Very deep! I didn't know we could write so much about these "Magpie Tales"...
ReplyDeleteVery cool take.
-bryan
Wow you've recycled this one three times! It's still awesome. Not the one I thought you were going to post but terrific anyway.
ReplyDeleteit is a great write but how many times are you gonna make me read this one? smiles.
ReplyDeleteLove the ending. It's just creepy enough.
ReplyDeletefirst time i've read it, and it's very good, in a creepy kind of way. good job!
ReplyDeletewhoa.
ReplyDeleteDon't I say that every week? ha.