Hump Day Kick Start – The Camera is Rolling Edition

Song of the day: Tears Don’t Fall by Bullet For My Valentine

Hump Day Kick Start – for your muse, a writing picture prompt, or just a visual treat.

by helmut newton


This should get your attention.

Today’s writing picture prompt is, um, curious. Who are these people and what’s going on?  Take notice of the characters in the background. The man in the jacket seems uneasy. The smoker, passing judgement. And the woman with the bent knee, anxiously waiting. What are they filming? A magazine perfume ad or suggestive pictorial? A documentary on the tragic life of an actress?  A sex scene in a movie? Why is the sharply-dressed man adjusting her dress. Is he buttoning or unbuttoning? Is she allowing him? Or is she unable? If so why? Is it because of something nefarious? Maybe she is in more control than she is letting on to be. Perhaps she is the hostess of an elite “training” party.

You tell me. Love to hear your take.

10 Responses to Hump Day Kick Start – The Camera is Rolling Edition

  1. jeff7salter says:

    Now you’re talking.
    Give me a minute to appreciate this lady’s, um, necklace… and I’ll get right back to you.


  2. jeff7salter says:

    Okay, here’s Milinda’s story:
    As usual, Milinda’s entourage — 4 hangers-on, one always with a ciggie and one always with a camera — were never any actual help with anything.
    So when that bug flew down the front of her LOW-cut dress, Milinda feared she’d have to disrobe right there in the parlor of Lord Whohaw.
    And, as we all know, Milinda cannot STAND bugs, of any kind… especially not on her person.
    Frantic to rid herself of this pest and nearly frozen with anxiety, Milinda called into the main room of the Whohaw mansion:
    “Can anyone help me? Please!”
    Oswalt sometimes faded into the background at these social events, partly because of his greasy hair. But tonight, when nobody else responded to Milinda’s pleas, Oswalt stood up, strode into the parlor and said he was willing to help.
    “Whatever you do, please do it quickly,” she implored.
    “But, madame, since we do not know what type of insect is involved, we cannot know the potential damage it may cause.” He visually surveyed the plentiful flesh in the area of the bug’s last siting. “If it’s poisonous, we must capture it before it can strike or bite. If it’s merely offensive, we must remove it without squeezing its goo all over your lovely, uh, frontage.”
    With her nerves nearly shot, Milinda gasped, “Do what must be done.”
    “Very well,” he said, as he pulled down one strap and further opened the front of her dress. He took all appropriate time and care inspecting the properties on which the insect may have landed. “No sign of the offender on this side,” he said, lightly stroking the pale, firm flesh, “But I shall have to investigate lower, uh, shall we say, to the tip of the peak.”
    As the eyes of her entourage widened in amazement, Oswalt proceeded to remove the remaining buttons and expose her frontage completely.
    “Do you see it?” she wailed.
    “Madame, I need a moment for further inspection, but I believe I have located the intruder.”
    “Can you remove it?” she begged. “Quickly.”
    “Alas, with both of my hands employed to, um, separate the — shall we say… peaks — my only recourse will be to capture the offender with my lips.”
    “Then be done with it,” she wailed.
    And he was, taking his own sweet time.


  3. jeff7salter says:

    Hmm. odd. This is the second time I’ve gone all out and created a masterpiece and everybody else stays away from the blog.
    the last time everybody was at a conference somewhere.
    Where’d everybody go this time? Some big party I didn’t hear about?


  4. Jeff searches frantically for his lost olive…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: