2670. The dangerous lake

Well! I had been sent by my editor to the lake to get a few photos. The lake was a popular swimming place but known for drownings. Hardly a year had gone by when there hadn’t been at least one drowning. The magazine was going to publish an article highlighting the dangers of swimming in the lake. Hence the need for a few photos.

When I arrived at the lake there were half a dozen people swimming about. In fact they were playing with a beach ball, tossing it one to another and judging from what I saw I deduced that the aim was to steal the beach ball off the opposition.

One of the contributing factors to the drownings is the weed. There is thick water weed growing on the lake floor and occasionally someone’s foot gets tangled in the weed and they can’t emerge.

And then a miracle happened! This woman – I suppose she was about twenty – got caught in the weed. She was jumping up and waving and gasping for air. She was going under and remerging and flaying about like an octopus. At first I thought she must have been bitten by a fish or something. Then all went still. Her beach ball friends were stunned into silence, and she sort of floated and went under. Floated and went under several times.

I managed to capture it all. My editor is going to be thrilled.

2039. A newsworthy photograph

What a conundrum for Haydn Rex Pratt. He had just published his fourteenth novel and the local newspaper needed a photograph. What photograph should be used? He had a substantial collection of self-portraits but it was a question of selecting one that verged on the academic.

For example should he supply a photograph of himself sitting engrossed at a desk with a pen poised between his thumb and forefinger and the other end of the pen just touching his lips? It was reflective and almost professorial. No, it would not do. What writer these days would be seen dead holding a pen? Hadn’t they heard of computers?

His snapshots sitting at a computer were humdrum. Many of them had the camera flash reflected on the screen. It was so amateurish. Besides, most of these photographs were several years old and the style of keyboard and mouse (not to mention the clothes he was wearing) had quickly become dated and unfashionable.

Then there were several to choose from that were taken outdoors. One of these in particular was his favourite (people said it didn’t look like him but he absolutely adored it). He was standing in front of a date palm. Everything in the picture was so natural. He was smiling. He knew exactly why he was smiling. His time in North Africa had been one of the most enjoyable vacations he had taken. That gladness was clearly reflected in the photo. But what did smiling in front of a date palm in North Africa have to do with his novel? And he couldn’t remember the name of the woman who was standing next to him.

There were several photographs that were unmentionable. He kept them hidden at the bottom of the pile. They were inappropriate of course, but he looked at them for some time as if they could serve some use to the local newspaper.

In the end, Haydn Rex Pratt selected a photograph of himself that didn’t seem to place him in any context or setting. It was a full-length photograph, but it made him look particularly handsome. Not that he wasn’t naturally handsome, but this photograph captured him perfectly. Perhaps it was the quality of light or the precise angle that encapsulated his fetching masculinity. Who knows? It was this photograph that he always thought should be used as a basis once the town decided to erect a statue of him; the resident famous novelist!

Haydn Rex Prat tucked the photo into his inside jacket pocket and set off for work. It was a busy life being the editor of the local newspaper.

1154. So closed-minded

Regina was the new editor of a prestigious magazine. It was a monthly publication that shared ideas and articles about flower arranging. It was extremely popular. It was possible to follow the flower arrangements without having to possess expensive vases. In fact, some of the best flower arrangements were made in old jam jars with things that most people could find in their gardens. Even weeds!

When Regina landed the editorial job she announced a few changes; in fact, more than a few! The whole format was overhauled, and the online format was made to accommodate various social media appliances. Only the rich could afford the flowers and vases used.

Regina’s opening editorial began:

Wonderful! Wonderful! Wonderful! Our design staff has been busy improving the appearance and content of our magazine. We’d love to hear your response to these wonderful improvements!

Four hundred and twenty-nine readers responded. Fourteen loved the new look; the rest hated it. People are so closed-minded, aren’t they? They can’t cope with change. They’re stuck in the Middle Ages, these people; thick-skinned dinosaurs who refused to adapt to the changing world. “It hasn’t taken long for the whingers and moaners of this world to crawl out of the woodwork,” declared Regina.

Subscriptions plummeted. The board gave Regina a substantial pay rise to celebrate her wonderful, wonderful, wonderful innovations.