9.25.2013 Journal Prompt

September 25, 2013: You’d think they were friends.

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One thought on “9.25.2013 Journal Prompt

  1. Lindsay

    You’d think they were friends. From those first photographs you would. They sit close enough they are together and they drink red wine from small tumblers and they are smiling. They could be sisters or friends, if you didn’t know. And it’s Fred who took the pictures and Fred is the real reason for their smiles.

    Fred had rented a caravan up by Moss Wood Park and he’d invited them both up for a week, only he’d made a mistake and he’d asked them for the same week. Rose and Evelyn, and they’d never met before, though Rose had smelled Evelyn’s perfume on Fred’s shirt collar once and Evelyn had found Rose’s earring in the thick pile of Fred’s living-room carpet.

    ‘I’ll sleep on the sofa,’ Fred said. There were two bedrooms in the caravan and the girls could sleep there. It wasn’t what Fred had planned. It was wasn’t what Rose and Evelyn had thought would be. So they drank red wine and smiled for Fred’s pictures and pretended they were friends. They competed, too, for Fred’s every attention, making the best show of themselves in small ways.

    And Fred? Well, after the initial fright of them both turning up, he was like the cat what’s got the cream. He kissed them both on the cheek and he said it was lovely that they both could come and he opened the wine straight away.

    Rose changed into her swimming costume first chance she got. Not that they were going swimming; it was sunny and she wanted a tan – that’s what she said. Truth is she wanted Fred to see. Evelyn hitched up her skirt so he’d notice her legs; he always said she had the best legs anywhere. And Evelyn sat up straight so her tits were on show; she’d bought one of those push-up bras just for the occasion. You can see all that in the photographs.

    And on that first night they ate at the campsite café and they took their own drinks. They were on the vodka by then and they were loud and always laughing and touching each other, the girls touching Fred as if to let the other know he was taken. There are pictures of that too, some a little out of focus and a few that the woman at the next table had taken for Fred.

    And in the dark on the way back to the caravan there were kisses and no one seemed to mind and least of all Fred. And more than kisses there were and laughing at Fred feeling up Evelyn’s tits and one hand between Rose’s legs. There are no picture of that, except what is in Fred’s head when he wakes the next day and he is in the bed with Evelyn on one side and Rose on the other and none of them wearing any clothes and he wasn’t neither.

    But the pictures after that are different. The same red wine in plastic tumblers and the same sitting with few clothes on and the sun on everything; but the girls aren’t smiling at the camera like before, not smiling at Fred. In all the photographs after the first day, the girls are smiling at each other and not like friends or sisters but like something more. And they touch each other, in small ways that only the camera sees at first. And on all the nights after the first, Fred sleeps in one bedroom and the girls together in the other, and that wasn’t part of anyone’s plan.

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