“Now look distant, as though you have something on your mind… an old memory that has resurfaced… or even a long-lost love… a soul mate… yes… that’s it… perfect!”
The photographer clicked away with his camera; Edith sat in her chair, the painted backdrop behind giving a good impression they were outside instead of in the corner of a studio, without listening to a word.
She watched the assistant turn the white reflector around slightly just after each click, fully aware that he knew she was watching, and she knew he knew she knew. When he glanced over at her, she’d slightly turn up the left side of her mouth and allow her vision to look beyond him, nonchalantly, naturally.
“Keep doing what you’re doing,” the photographer continued to encourage, “we want to know just what exactly is going on behind your eyes, but we know you will never reveal it – it is your secret, for which we must all keep guessing… perf…!”
He was interrupted by the deafening rings of the fire bell suddenly sounding, “Malcolm, get Miss Frost outside safely, I’ll grab what equipment I can and follow…” Edith no longer heard the photographer’s voice or the alarm as ‘Malcolm’ took her gloved hand and gently helped her to her feet; the electricity in his touch causing her mind’s eye to picture confetti falling around them.
Posted for Six Sentence Stories. The prompt word this week is ‘Confetti’.