Today's post (contribution for BFF's prompt: Somebody's Watching Me) is the flip side of yesterday's post (contribution for GBE's prompt: Guilty Pleasure) - reality bites.
Anne, once again, plopped herself down on the overstuffed couch, tossed off her shoes, and turned on the TV. Another afternoon of Reality Bites to fulfill her guilty pleasure. That is, watch the five clueless about the fact their lives are being recorded second by second, day after day young college students talk about private matters and, hopefully, do yet another jaw dropping activity. Another day for Anne to lose herself into their world, escaping from her own.
As Anne watched the TV screen, the character named Carrie sat in a quiet corner talking on the phone to her boyfriend. Telling him things Anne was pretty sure Carrie wouldn't be saying if she knew the world was listening in. As she was talking to him, Carrie was also holding a framed photo of her boyfriend. Admiring his shirtless torso.
What Carrie didn't know was that a teeny tiny camera had been installed into the frame so that the TV audience was seeing a close-up of her dreamy face as she spoke to her lover.
Suddenly, Carrie pulled the frame away, then brought it right back, close to her face, making her features look magnified. "Whoa. That's strange," she began, speaking to her beau, and anyone watching the show, "but I have a freaky feeling that I'm being watched."
She felt shaken. Odd. Like something was a bit off. Yet, she had no explanation as to why.
"Well," her boyfriend laughed, "I hope not. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want anyone hearing what you plan on doing to me. Not that I'd mind!" He laughed, louder.
Anne was starring into Carrie's eyes. All she could do was push her body further back into the couch, tensing all her muscles. She let out a deep, unexpected gasp.
Anne, once again, plopped herself down on the overstuffed couch, tossed off her shoes, and turned on the TV. Another afternoon of Reality Bites to fulfill her guilty pleasure. That is, watch the five clueless about the fact their lives are being recorded second by second, day after day young college students talk about private matters and, hopefully, do yet another jaw dropping activity. Another day for Anne to lose herself into their world, escaping from her own.
As Anne watched the TV screen, the character named Carrie sat in a quiet corner talking on the phone to her boyfriend. Telling him things Anne was pretty sure Carrie wouldn't be saying if she knew the world was listening in. As she was talking to him, Carrie was also holding a framed photo of her boyfriend. Admiring his shirtless torso.
What Carrie didn't know was that a teeny tiny camera had been installed into the frame so that the TV audience was seeing a close-up of her dreamy face as she spoke to her lover.
Suddenly, Carrie pulled the frame away, then brought it right back, close to her face, making her features look magnified. "Whoa. That's strange," she began, speaking to her beau, and anyone watching the show, "but I have a freaky feeling that I'm being watched."
She felt shaken. Odd. Like something was a bit off. Yet, she had no explanation as to why.
"Well," her boyfriend laughed, "I hope not. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want anyone hearing what you plan on doing to me. Not that I'd mind!" He laughed, louder.
Anne was starring into Carrie's eyes. All she could do was push her body further back into the couch, tensing all her muscles. She let out a deep, unexpected gasp.
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