“Look at this one,” the man said, holding up a large photo. “I took this one just this last March, as it was warming up.
“It’s really nice,” the other man replied. “Do you touch them up at all?”
“What do you mean?” the first man asked.
“Do you use Photoshop, or are these images pretty much as you took them?”
“Ah,” the first man laughed, “I do some adjustments. Brightness and contrast, mostly. I don’t get too much into it. I just don’t understand how to do it. My wife showed me how to do that much, though. I do it on my computer, while I’m on the road. I like to edit them as I take them.”
“That’s all you need, really,” the other man said. “A couple adjustment layers to help the colors pop. Keep it simple. Editing isn’t what makes a beautiful photograph. It’s the subject matter that is most important.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” the first man said, admiring his own photo. “These are beautiful places. God’s country, if there ever was such a place. You can’t help but take amazing pictures when you’re surrounded by all this natural splendor.”
The two men stood in silence, looking at the picture. It truly was a beautiful scene.
Friday, June 30, 2017
Monday, June 5, 2017
Wattpad MyHandmaidsTale Competition Part 2
My second entry into the MyHandmaidsTale contest on Wattpad. I'm not sure how many of these I'll write, but it's fun so maybe I'll pump out a few more before the end of the contest on 6/25.
Sunday, June 4, 2017
Wattpad MyHandmaidsTale Competition
I'm on a roll with these Wattpad competitions. Check out my latest entry here. This one is an extension of Margaret Atwood's "The Handmaid's Tale". Enjoy, and make sure to vote it up.
Friday, June 2, 2017
Wattpad Short Story SmackDown Qualifier
Check out my entry for the Short Story SmackDown on Wattpad (or just read it below).
Also, happy SciFiFriday.
Frank grinned, inhaling slowly and deeply before he replied and when he did so, he ensured eye contact with Dave was maintained...
"It's time," Frank said flatly.
"What you mean, 'it's time', Frank" Davey spat. "Of course it's time! That's what I've been gettin' at with all this. Are you not listenin' to me, Frank? You got something in your ears, Frank?" Davey stepped in close to Frank, their noses almost touching through the bars. "You need to open up your mind, Frank. You need to get what I'm sayin' into your head."
"It's time," Frank said again, that stupid grin still spread across his face. Davey couldn't tell if Frank's grin was an attempt at pacifying or mocking him. "Come on, Davey boy, let's get you up and at 'em. You'll feel better once you take these" Frank put his hands through the bars, palms up, two small white tablets in each hand. "Let's go," he beckoned.
"Get off'a me!" Davey bellowed, jumping backward away from Frank's outstretched fingers. "You ain't listenin' to me, Frank! This, all of this, it's all going to end! It'll all be gone, Frank! You get that? You get any of this? Is any of it sinking in? Our names, in the books, for all of history; inscribed in stone, Franky, written in lights. They'll look back at us, everyone of 'em, and they'll say: 'Those guys did it. They did it for us. We're here because of them!' All the killin', all the hurtin', all the pain; all of it for them, so they got a chance, Frank. You see what I'm sayin' Frank? Earth to Frank. You in or not?"
"I'm sorry, Davey," Frank sighed, his voice heavy with an empathy that had been lacking moments ago. "He's refusing," Frank said to the empty space behind him. "Pop the lock."
"What are you talkin' 'bout," Davey spat, glaring at Frank through the bars. But as he opened his mouth to speak again, he was interrupted by a loud KLANK-KLANK. The gate to Davey's cell squealed open slowly and two large men stepped out from behind Frank and grabbed Davey by the arms, forcing him to the ground.
"What the hell!" Davey screamed, thrashing about with his legs, biting and spitting at the air.
"Hold 'em still," Frank instructed the men holding Davey. "We'll need to adjust his dosage. He's even more agitated than when he was first brought in. And the delusions, they haven't calmed at all."
"IT'S ALL GOING TO BURN!" Davey screeched. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL, FRANK! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL!"
Dr. Frank injected Davey with a cocktail of sedatives and psychotropic medication. Davey continued to struggle for a moment, and then went limp. The orderlies picked up Davey's flaccid body and placed him on a metal cot in the corner of the cell.
"Restrain him," Dr. Frank told them. "We'll need to keep him snowed for his own good until I can stabilize his medication."
Also, happy SciFiFriday.
Frank grinned, inhaling slowly and deeply before he replied and when he did so, he ensured eye contact with Dave was maintained...
"It's time," Frank said flatly.
"What you mean, 'it's time', Frank" Davey spat. "Of course it's time! That's what I've been gettin' at with all this. Are you not listenin' to me, Frank? You got something in your ears, Frank?" Davey stepped in close to Frank, their noses almost touching through the bars. "You need to open up your mind, Frank. You need to get what I'm sayin' into your head."
"It's time," Frank said again, that stupid grin still spread across his face. Davey couldn't tell if Frank's grin was an attempt at pacifying or mocking him. "Come on, Davey boy, let's get you up and at 'em. You'll feel better once you take these" Frank put his hands through the bars, palms up, two small white tablets in each hand. "Let's go," he beckoned.
"Get off'a me!" Davey bellowed, jumping backward away from Frank's outstretched fingers. "You ain't listenin' to me, Frank! This, all of this, it's all going to end! It'll all be gone, Frank! You get that? You get any of this? Is any of it sinking in? Our names, in the books, for all of history; inscribed in stone, Franky, written in lights. They'll look back at us, everyone of 'em, and they'll say: 'Those guys did it. They did it for us. We're here because of them!' All the killin', all the hurtin', all the pain; all of it for them, so they got a chance, Frank. You see what I'm sayin' Frank? Earth to Frank. You in or not?"
"I'm sorry, Davey," Frank sighed, his voice heavy with an empathy that had been lacking moments ago. "He's refusing," Frank said to the empty space behind him. "Pop the lock."
"What are you talkin' 'bout," Davey spat, glaring at Frank through the bars. But as he opened his mouth to speak again, he was interrupted by a loud KLANK-KLANK. The gate to Davey's cell squealed open slowly and two large men stepped out from behind Frank and grabbed Davey by the arms, forcing him to the ground.
"What the hell!" Davey screamed, thrashing about with his legs, biting and spitting at the air.
"Hold 'em still," Frank instructed the men holding Davey. "We'll need to adjust his dosage. He's even more agitated than when he was first brought in. And the delusions, they haven't calmed at all."
"IT'S ALL GOING TO BURN!" Davey screeched. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL, FRANK! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL!"
Dr. Frank injected Davey with a cocktail of sedatives and psychotropic medication. Davey continued to struggle for a moment, and then went limp. The orderlies picked up Davey's flaccid body and placed him on a metal cot in the corner of the cell.
"Restrain him," Dr. Frank told them. "We'll need to keep him snowed for his own good until I can stabilize his medication."
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