Look at this photograph….
To be one hundred percent clear, I am not a photographer and I don’t actually for sure know how a tilt-shift lens operates, I am totally guessing, but when the prompt for the second day of Flash Fiction February was “focus,” it was the first thing that came to mind, so I ran with it. Also the first paragraph makes me laugh every time I read it.
Gina fumbled in her huge, disorganized bag for her camera lens, silently cursing herself for not putting everything in order the night before. You should have prepped for this fucking wedding, but you wanted to get your tits squeezed, you dumb slut. The father of the bride already gave you that look when he saw your outfit. I can’t believe you only packed this fucking tiny skirt. Goddamn destination weddings….
Someone barked a laugh at a joke she didn’t hear. Her fingers landed on the case she wanted and yanked it out of the bag as she straightened up. She clawed it open, nearly sending the thousand-dollar lens tumbling off the boulder where she perched and into the sand below. Jesus Christ, Gina, get it together! More carefully, she switched lenses and put the first one back in her bag.
The wedding party didn’t notice her clumsiness, fortunately. Still standing in the semicircle she’d artfully posed them in for the last few group portraits, they passed two – she saw another flash – three flasks around, trading swigs. A breeze swept across them toward the shore, bringing a familiar outdoor with it. Whiskey, she realized, her stomach rolling over in a sea of memories from the night before. Don’t barf.
“Okay, everyone! Hide those from the camera. Kate, honey, your hair is caught on your tiara – Loren, would you mind helping her? Now, you four bend down a little, and everyone get your head in line with our lovely bride’s here.” Gina looked through the viewfinder as the attendants shuffled around one another. She tilted the lens to neutral and adjusted the focus.
“Now, this is a special lens that will make you all look like dolls or action figures, but you need to hold super still while I count to three.” A few drunken giggles escaped them, but most of the wedding party nodded. With her camera eye, she watched them freeze as she started to count.
“One.” She opened the shutter. “Two.” She tilted the lens up, then down again. “Three.” She checked the photo on the tiny camera screen. Wow, it actually worked the first time! “That’s great, we got it!” she announced to the group.
A bridesmaid let out a loud whoop, and suddenly the flasks were out again. This is going to take forever, Gina whined to herself as the group returned to party mode. One of the groomsmen caught her eye and held up one of the flasks in an unspoken question. Gina glanced around and saw that the group was alone on the isolated beach. Fuck it, she thought, and motioned him over.