Files From the Bureau: "Picture, If You Will"
May 12, 2015 22:46:16 GMT -5
Dhark and Goats like this
Post by mcr on May 12, 2015 22:46:16 GMT -5
PROOF OF CONCEPT
================
*zzzzt zzzt*
Mark Kramer: Maw, kin you git that?
*zzzt zzt*
*zzzt zzt*
Mark: Maw!
Josie Kramer: Shush you! I don't want to miss it either!
*zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt*
The door chime continued to buzz as Mark and Josie Kramer sat in front of the TV.
Mark: Fine, I'll git it...
Mark got up slowly, rubbed his back, and opened the door. A thin, well dressed man sporting an old fashioned camera, a roll of film tucked under his arm smiled politely:
"Good evening sir. I'm new to these parts and trying to earn my way. Could I interest you in a family portrait? You, your mother, and your little daughter, Grace?"
Mark scratched his head a bit, wondering how the man knew who they were. They lived in a remote spot, and didn't get out much, but these kinds of visits also weren't unusual. People always stopping by on the way to the City, trying to sell something to hold them over on the way.
The man gestured with his camera as if to invite himself inside.
Josie waddled over with three-year old Grace, the static of the TV playing in the background:
"No, that's fine. Gracie wants to get her picture took. Just do it out here."
Josie gestured over to a swinging bench affixed to the porch. The man tucked the camera under arm and let her by as Mark grudgingly followed. They got seated as Josie brushed a little hair away from Grace's face:
"Say cheese, Gracie."
*Flash*
Rod Serling: And so, picture, if you will, this quiet scene in modern Americana. . .
The man tucked his camera away under his arm, as three dried out husks lay rotting in the sun, eerie smiles on their faces.
=======================================================================================
There are things that go bump in the night. We are the ones . . . who bump back.
================
*zzzzt zzzt*
Mark Kramer: Maw, kin you git that?
*zzzt zzt*
*zzzt zzt*
Mark: Maw!
Josie Kramer: Shush you! I don't want to miss it either!
*zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt*
The door chime continued to buzz as Mark and Josie Kramer sat in front of the TV.
Mark: Fine, I'll git it...
Mark got up slowly, rubbed his back, and opened the door. A thin, well dressed man sporting an old fashioned camera, a roll of film tucked under his arm smiled politely:
"Good evening sir. I'm new to these parts and trying to earn my way. Could I interest you in a family portrait? You, your mother, and your little daughter, Grace?"
Mark scratched his head a bit, wondering how the man knew who they were. They lived in a remote spot, and didn't get out much, but these kinds of visits also weren't unusual. People always stopping by on the way to the City, trying to sell something to hold them over on the way.
The man gestured with his camera as if to invite himself inside.
Josie waddled over with three-year old Grace, the static of the TV playing in the background:
"No, that's fine. Gracie wants to get her picture took. Just do it out here."
Josie gestured over to a swinging bench affixed to the porch. The man tucked the camera under arm and let her by as Mark grudgingly followed. They got seated as Josie brushed a little hair away from Grace's face:
"Say cheese, Gracie."
*Flash*
Rod Serling: And so, picture, if you will, this quiet scene in modern Americana. . .
The man tucked his camera away under his arm, as three dried out husks lay rotting in the sun, eerie smiles on their faces.
=======================================================================================
There are things that go bump in the night. We are the ones . . . who bump back.
