That Ugly Picture
By Diana Catt
I’m willing to bet your mom has a
picture hidden away in the bottom of a box, or a drawer, that makes you cringe
whenever it makes the light of day.
You know the one. That awkward pose you
hope is not how you really look.
Here’s one of mine – all pointy elbows,
shoulder blades, and knees. Odd sunglasses and mother-dictated haircut. About 11
or 12 years old. The cute, photogenic boys in front are my brothers. I’m sure
there’s a freaky photo of them in mom’s picture box, too.
I thought about my own ugly pictures
when I saw “The Two Sisters,” a painting by Georges Lemmen (1894) on display at
the Indianapolis Museum of Art.
I can understand how a camera might
capture an off-guard moment, a fleetingly awkward position, but don’t you have
to pose for extended times for a painting?
Wouldn’t it be appalling if a painting
you posed hours for ended up looking like an embarrassing, momentary, snapshot pose?
Something more had to be going on with
those two sisters…
Suddenly, I had my inspiration for a
short story,Framed, which appears in the anthology, The Fine Art of Murder.
Since I bravely put up an embarrassing
photograph of myself, I’m going to counter with an outright brag. Framed was chosen to be included in an
anthology of the Best from Women in Horror, called Killing It Softly, 2 (Digital
Media Publishing, 2017)
Here’s a short
excerpt from Framed:
The
wilted missionary was back in the foyer when I returned to the living room and
I watched Papa escort him into the library. Mama continued her piano playing
and singing so I couldn’t hear any conversation leaking from the partially open
library door. Papa had given the man some money earlier today, so I couldn’t
imagine why he’d be back. I stood erect for Vonnie but kept one eye on the
front lobby, waiting for the missionary to emerge.
At
the moment the library door opened wider to reveal Papa and his guest, Mama
finished the piece she was playing. In the sudden vortex of quiet, I distinctly
heard Papa say, “Be careful what you say, sir. Your life may depend on it.”
I
didn’t know if that was a warning or a threat.
Then
Mama started playing again.
Links:
Killing It Softly 2: A Digital Horror
Fiction Anthology of Short Stories (The Best by Women in Horror)
The Fine Art of Murder