(non-scifi) The Picture Album
Posted: 2007-10-19 09:23pm
A fearsome, sullen tiger was stalking the streets of Munich Crossing. A red, sports car shaped tiger. The tiger pulled into the driveway of 97 Lightning Lane. A woman named Lillie Zundel threw the car door open and hurtled a business proposal out of it venomously. She stormed from the vehicle, polished heels clicking on the cobblestone drive before sinking into the lush lawn as she stalked after the paper. She scooped it up furiously, and turned sharply towards her front door, shouting all the while.
“Investment? In Magicorp? Are they out of their minds? Brenda has to be sleeping with the boss if she can float crackpot schemes like that past him!”
She angrily jabbed her key at the doorknob, successfully opening it on the fifth attempt. She walked inside, dropped her bag on the couch, and directed herself to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door and withdrew a few moments later with her own alchemist’s brew of vitamins and tomato juice. She downed it, and walked over to the television. It had been a bad day, and she was looking forward to commiserating with the T.V.
***
Lillie awoke in her upstairs bedroom when the sun battered her eyelids. She awoke alone, noises of her rising absorbed without echo in the opulent house. Plainly, Tess had not yet risen from her accustomed spot, curled up at the foot of the bed. Lillie had been born into money, and had forged a successful career in her seven years out of college. Her work had consumed all other pursuits: she was unmarried, and hadn’t dated since her college years. The moment she left the University of Phoenix, she had purchased her well-to-do house in Nevada, purchased her reds sports car, and settled into her well-paying career.
This suited her just fine. Not that Lillie didn’t often miss human companionship (there was only so much a border collie could do) of any variety, but this comfortable living was purely a positive in her life.
She showered, dressed, ate, and drove to work. When it came time for her to return, her mood had lightened considerably. After a day of debate, the Magicorp investment was looking less and less likely. She pulled into the driveway, pausing for only a moment to obtain her mail from the box at the foot of the drive. She turned off the car, went inside through the garage, and began to sort through the mail.
Bill…
Credit card…
Picture.
Between two envelopes was a picture of a street sign… her street sign. The time marked on the picture was midnight exactly. Perplexed, but not alarmed, Lillie set the mysterious image on the counter
***
The next day was largely the same. They had debated investment all day, but the proposal was still largely up in the air. The rigors of debate, in fact, had pushed the unusual picture entirely from mind until she saw her neighbor that afternoon. As Lillie drove past Mrs. Richardsen while she was watering her garden, Lillie was struck by an idea. She rolled down the window.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Richardsen.”
“Oh, hello, Lillie! How are you?”
“Just fine, thanks. Out of curiousity, did you receive a picture of our street sign in the mail yesterday?”
“No, I don’t believe so,” she said, frowning, “why, did you get one?”
“I did. It’s no matter.”
“I suppose. I know I got all the mail; you couldn’t trust Timothy to pick up a letter if his life depended on it!” Mrs. Richardsen said in a tirade, photograph entirely erased from her mind.
To Lillie, however, it was in its sharpest relief yet, and she could only distractedly humor Mrs. Richardsen’s criticisms of her son. After they parted, Lillie pulled into her drive, slightly disturbed. Why, she thought, would anyone taking pictures at midnight mail them specifically to me?
She tentatively opened the mailbox, withdrew the materials within, and breathed a sigh of relief when no pictures were enclosed. She fervently hoped she had seen the last of these mysterious photographs.
But it was not to be. Tess had accidentally unplugged the alarm clock over the course of the night, and Lillie had awoken ten minutes late, and had to leave in a rush. Despite a zealous application of the accelerator, Lillie failed to notice the flapping piece of paper under her windshield wiper until she reached the end of the street. She braked just as liberally, coming to a neck-jerking stop. She reached out, withdrawing the paper, heart sinking as she felt the unmistakable oily texture.
A cold feeling of dread went through her veins. This was no accidental mailing: who was lurking outside of her house at 1 A.M., taking pictures of the darkened walls, and leaving them under her windshield wiper?
Not particularly caring about how late she was anymore, Lillie returned to her house. She required the companion to the photograph now in her hand. Surely, surely, Sapphire would know what to do.
***
Lillie’s boss was furious, but not unforgiving. Lillie had never been half an hour late before, as she was plainly (or so he mistakenly believed) distraught by her delayed arrival. In actuality, the incident with the windshield wiper had made her perfect attendance record frankly trivial. Another day of debate over the Magicorp investment, of which the entire party was growing rapidly bored, loomed before them and the lunch hour came as a welcome reprieve. Lillie immediately sought Sapphire in the company cafeteria, selecting a seat next to her. Sapphire, a software engineer, was deeply engrossed in pages of indecipherable code, and the lunch hour had nearly expired before she extracted herself from them. Seizing the opportunity, Lillie set the two pictures on Sapphire’s briefcase and related the story.
“Well,” Sapphire said after Lillie had finished, the code now thoroughly forgotten, “have you considered going to the police?” Sapphire was a good, if sometimes distant friend, and she was more than willing to forsake her work to aid her distraught colleague.
“The police? Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme? It’s just two freaky pictures, no one’s committed a murder.”
“Yet,” Sapphire said. Her watch beeped, letting her now that it was time to return to work, “look, Lillie, I trust you. You’ll do what’s wise, but please, be careful. There’s something extremely weird about this whole thing.”
“I know there is. I’ll be careful. Thanks, Sapphire.”
***
Lillie awoke right on time the next morning. Tess had been kind enough not to rip out the alarm clock cable this time. Lillie reached down to pet the dog for his relative invisibility during the night. Her heart stopped when her hand passed through the air her dog was supposed to occupy. She quickly swung her head over the side, looking down at the blankets set up on the floor, still with a Tess-sized indentation. Normally, the dog rising early would not distress her in the slightest, but the events of the past few days had set her completely on edge. She dashed from the bed and began searching the house, calling the dog’s name frantically. Except for Lillie’s own heartbeat and the echoes of “Tess?” on the walls, the house was still as the inky void. With a quiet dread, she sought the objects she knew were involved. There, on the coffee table, were the two pictures, the sign and the house.
On top of them lay a third picture. Looking up at the camera was Tess, snarling viciously at the cameraman from the kitchen floor.
It was timestamped 2 A.M.
“Investment? In Magicorp? Are they out of their minds? Brenda has to be sleeping with the boss if she can float crackpot schemes like that past him!”
She angrily jabbed her key at the doorknob, successfully opening it on the fifth attempt. She walked inside, dropped her bag on the couch, and directed herself to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator door and withdrew a few moments later with her own alchemist’s brew of vitamins and tomato juice. She downed it, and walked over to the television. It had been a bad day, and she was looking forward to commiserating with the T.V.
***
Lillie awoke in her upstairs bedroom when the sun battered her eyelids. She awoke alone, noises of her rising absorbed without echo in the opulent house. Plainly, Tess had not yet risen from her accustomed spot, curled up at the foot of the bed. Lillie had been born into money, and had forged a successful career in her seven years out of college. Her work had consumed all other pursuits: she was unmarried, and hadn’t dated since her college years. The moment she left the University of Phoenix, she had purchased her well-to-do house in Nevada, purchased her reds sports car, and settled into her well-paying career.
This suited her just fine. Not that Lillie didn’t often miss human companionship (there was only so much a border collie could do) of any variety, but this comfortable living was purely a positive in her life.
She showered, dressed, ate, and drove to work. When it came time for her to return, her mood had lightened considerably. After a day of debate, the Magicorp investment was looking less and less likely. She pulled into the driveway, pausing for only a moment to obtain her mail from the box at the foot of the drive. She turned off the car, went inside through the garage, and began to sort through the mail.
Bill…
Credit card…
Picture.
Between two envelopes was a picture of a street sign… her street sign. The time marked on the picture was midnight exactly. Perplexed, but not alarmed, Lillie set the mysterious image on the counter
***
The next day was largely the same. They had debated investment all day, but the proposal was still largely up in the air. The rigors of debate, in fact, had pushed the unusual picture entirely from mind until she saw her neighbor that afternoon. As Lillie drove past Mrs. Richardsen while she was watering her garden, Lillie was struck by an idea. She rolled down the window.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Richardsen.”
“Oh, hello, Lillie! How are you?”
“Just fine, thanks. Out of curiousity, did you receive a picture of our street sign in the mail yesterday?”
“No, I don’t believe so,” she said, frowning, “why, did you get one?”
“I did. It’s no matter.”
“I suppose. I know I got all the mail; you couldn’t trust Timothy to pick up a letter if his life depended on it!” Mrs. Richardsen said in a tirade, photograph entirely erased from her mind.
To Lillie, however, it was in its sharpest relief yet, and she could only distractedly humor Mrs. Richardsen’s criticisms of her son. After they parted, Lillie pulled into her drive, slightly disturbed. Why, she thought, would anyone taking pictures at midnight mail them specifically to me?
She tentatively opened the mailbox, withdrew the materials within, and breathed a sigh of relief when no pictures were enclosed. She fervently hoped she had seen the last of these mysterious photographs.
But it was not to be. Tess had accidentally unplugged the alarm clock over the course of the night, and Lillie had awoken ten minutes late, and had to leave in a rush. Despite a zealous application of the accelerator, Lillie failed to notice the flapping piece of paper under her windshield wiper until she reached the end of the street. She braked just as liberally, coming to a neck-jerking stop. She reached out, withdrawing the paper, heart sinking as she felt the unmistakable oily texture.
A cold feeling of dread went through her veins. This was no accidental mailing: who was lurking outside of her house at 1 A.M., taking pictures of the darkened walls, and leaving them under her windshield wiper?
Not particularly caring about how late she was anymore, Lillie returned to her house. She required the companion to the photograph now in her hand. Surely, surely, Sapphire would know what to do.
***
Lillie’s boss was furious, but not unforgiving. Lillie had never been half an hour late before, as she was plainly (or so he mistakenly believed) distraught by her delayed arrival. In actuality, the incident with the windshield wiper had made her perfect attendance record frankly trivial. Another day of debate over the Magicorp investment, of which the entire party was growing rapidly bored, loomed before them and the lunch hour came as a welcome reprieve. Lillie immediately sought Sapphire in the company cafeteria, selecting a seat next to her. Sapphire, a software engineer, was deeply engrossed in pages of indecipherable code, and the lunch hour had nearly expired before she extracted herself from them. Seizing the opportunity, Lillie set the two pictures on Sapphire’s briefcase and related the story.
“Well,” Sapphire said after Lillie had finished, the code now thoroughly forgotten, “have you considered going to the police?” Sapphire was a good, if sometimes distant friend, and she was more than willing to forsake her work to aid her distraught colleague.
“The police? Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme? It’s just two freaky pictures, no one’s committed a murder.”
“Yet,” Sapphire said. Her watch beeped, letting her now that it was time to return to work, “look, Lillie, I trust you. You’ll do what’s wise, but please, be careful. There’s something extremely weird about this whole thing.”
“I know there is. I’ll be careful. Thanks, Sapphire.”
***
Lillie awoke right on time the next morning. Tess had been kind enough not to rip out the alarm clock cable this time. Lillie reached down to pet the dog for his relative invisibility during the night. Her heart stopped when her hand passed through the air her dog was supposed to occupy. She quickly swung her head over the side, looking down at the blankets set up on the floor, still with a Tess-sized indentation. Normally, the dog rising early would not distress her in the slightest, but the events of the past few days had set her completely on edge. She dashed from the bed and began searching the house, calling the dog’s name frantically. Except for Lillie’s own heartbeat and the echoes of “Tess?” on the walls, the house was still as the inky void. With a quiet dread, she sought the objects she knew were involved. There, on the coffee table, were the two pictures, the sign and the house.
On top of them lay a third picture. Looking up at the camera was Tess, snarling viciously at the cameraman from the kitchen floor.
It was timestamped 2 A.M.