No Photographs, Please

“No, don’t take my picture!’  She batted his phone away, giggling but serious.  “I’m like Dorian Gray.”

 

He stopped trying to hold her still and stared.  “What?”

 

“Dorian Gray.  He’s an Oscar Wilde character,” she began before he interrupted her.

 

“I know who Dorian Gray is, asshole.  I meant what, like what the hell do you mean you’re like him.”

 

“Oh.  Ha.  Um, I mean that the camera doesn’t really give a shit about the details behind the details and it just shows your ugly bits.  Like, it’s all haha look at those wrinkles, but it doesn’t know if they’re from laughing or smiling or scowling.  It has no idea the circles under my eyes are from being up the past three nights with a pukey kid.  It just says, hey, freeze frame this moment so she can forever remember the giant zit on the middle of her nose.  Plus, I look like a dude in pictures.”

 

He laughed so hard at that he had to curl on his side.  “What,” he gasped, “are you talking about?  You don’t look anything like a dude.”

 

She punched him in the arm.  “I do too,” she insisted.  “Strong jawline, strong nose, big forehead.”  She flexed her muscles.  “Like a dude.”

 

“You’re so stupid.  Also, you’re starting to make me uncomfortable.”

 

She heaved out a heavy sigh and flopped back onto the pillows.  “What’s your problem now?”

 

She sat back up and gave him the hairy eyeball.  “What makes you think I have a problem?”

 

“Your body language.”

 

“Oh yeah?”  She grinned, flipping her arm behind her head and hunching over, bent at an odd angle.  “What does my body language say now?”

 

He grinned back at her.  “That you can be flexible and deflective at the same time.”

 

It felt good to laugh along with him, so she did.  “Seriously, though.  Don’t take my picture.”

 

************************************************************

I told my kid the other night that I was giving him the hairy eyeball because he kept ignoring my directive to wash the damn dishes, already.  This prompted much too much thought about this weird saying and having it stick in my head, so I stuck it in here instead.

Oh, and while trying to look up the origin of the saying, I found out there apparently is a condition that actually causes HAIRY EYEBALLS.  There’s pictures….http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2256639/Hairy-eyeball-Rare-limbal-dermoid-causes-Iranian-man-sprout-hairs-eye.html

 

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Categories: Fiction | Tags: , , , , , | 6 Comments

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6 thoughts on “No Photographs, Please

  1. I loved the conversational ping pong to this!

    • Thank you, t 🙂 I find myself lately just getting these out of context flashes of people, of their conversations, and I wonder if its because for so long I wrote more from an intellectual perspective than a human one. So glad you liked it 😉

  2. Oh gosh, why did I click that link? Now I have that hairy eyeball image burned into my brain. I love the description of the camera not caring about the details of the details… so true. As t says – the conversational ping pong is absorbing. Nice writing…

    • Haha, because it was there and you just had to…thank you, I’m really glad that the conversations are coming across as real and honest interactions 🙂

  3. I love this conversation so much I kind of need it to have really happened. Is that weird? Of course it is.

    • You know, that is a high compliment indeed so weirdness be damned! Or welcomed. Yeah, that, weirdness is welcomed. And so are you, lovely miss 🙂

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