Saturday, June 20, 2009

Beauty is in the Eye

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.

25 comments:

Anonymous said...

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.

Posted by Jessica Lynn on June 20, 2009 - Saturday - 7:57 AM

Anonymous said...

You think in parentheticals?

Posted by JeffScape on June 20, 2009 - Saturday - 8:11 AM

Anonymous said...

You know I do!

Posted by Jessica Lynn on June 20, 2009 - Saturday - 8:46 AM

Anonymous said...

Great, Jeff. One of the best I have read from you in awhile.

Posted by Joe on June 20, 2009 - Saturday - 9:53 AM

Anonymous said...

....Very cool. I love a good narrative. ....

Posted by BrAiNs!!! on June 20, 2009 - Saturday - 9:28 PM

Anonymous said...

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.

Posted by Bitsy on June 21, 2009 - Sunday - 11:14 PM

Wings said...

Hey - I'm not anonymous! I'm me!

Anonymous said...

Bill Golden at 6:36am June 20
Nice writing style. So this model would rather be somewhere else, eh?!

Anonymous said...

Jeffrey Golden at 6:42am June 20
Well, by the end of it, she sorta is. Heh.

Catalyst said...

You get the horror cap this week, Jeff. Great!

Rinkly Rimes said...

Now I know what it feels like to be a stalker!

The Crusty Crone said...

My first time here; I enjoyed your writing.

(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.)

Yemalla said...

Wow! Nothing more need be said here. This is an amazing piece.

joanny said...

Interesting 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..

Joanny

Brian Miller said...

hehe...similar veins this magpie...

Tess Kincaid said...

Trigger?!! Yikes!! Chilling ice cold, Jeff!

Tumblewords: said...

Argh. I thought he WAS the photographer - even though there was a niggle of question. Well written.

Caty said...

My first visit to your page...I loved the story. Very well written.

Jingle said...

magpie tale at working force,
witty!
well done!

Bryan J. Bailey said...

Very deep! I didn't know we could write so much about these "Magpie Tales"...
Very cool take.

-bryan

Baino said...

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.

Brian Miller said...

it is a great write but how many times are you gonna make me read this one? smiles.

PattiKen said...

Love the ending. It's just creepy enough.

Everyday Goddess said...

first time i've read it, and it's very good, in a creepy kind of way. good job!

Betsy said...

whoa.

Don't I say that every week? ha.

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