A PICTURE TELLS A THOUSAND WORDS

Mark, a middle aged man enters the front door of a large, red bricked Victorian house. He
closes the heavy wooden door behind him. He makes his way down the hallway through to
the kitchen. He enters the kitchen where his wife, Jules is standing at the marble worktop
chopping vegetables.

Jules: Ahh you’re home just in time. I’m just getting the dinner ready. Won’t be much
longer.

Mark makes his way over to Jules and kisses her on the cheek.

Mark: How was your day darling?

Jules: (looking up from her work and smiling warmly at Mark) My day was fine. The office
was crazy busy as usual but we got some really important cases sorted which was good for
the team. And you never know you could be looking at this year’s Christmas bonus winner.
(Jules smiles at Mark with a mischievous twinkle in her eye)

Mark’s face lights up and a wide smile spreads across his face.

Mark: Oh yeah? That’s fantastic Jules! I’m so proud of you!

Jules: Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves, nothings confirmed for definite there’s just a
few murmurs going around the office but it could just as well be a load of rubbish.

Jules looks back down at the food she is preparing and smiles shyly to herself.

Mark: Alright, I know it’s not time to celebrate just yet but that’s still super exciting Jules!
Just think, how much that bonus would help ease the stress, especially with the little one on
the way.
Jules puts her hand gently on her stomach. She starts tenderly stroking the small bump. She
looks down at her stomach and back up to Mark, her eyes big and round, full of emotion.
Jules: Anyways enough about me, how did today’s studio shoot go?

Mark: (unpacking his bags and placing some pieces of equipment onto the kitchen table)
Actually that shoot was cancelled for today, one of the contractors pulled out I think. It
should be rescheduled for sometime next week.

Jules: Oh?

Mark: Yeah so I thought I might as well pop down town to catch up on some street
photography for the council. Just a few stills of buildings, street signs stuff like that. Not my
favourite area of work but it has to be done. I thought that I may as well take the chance
while I had some free time.

Jules: Good idea. (sighing) I really need to start getting on top of my own work too.

Mark: Yes exactly. So I was down in the city centre taking some pictures of the old council
buildings but I strayed off course slightly and somehow ended up taking some live photos of
people on the streets. I used to love taking those sort of shots when I wasn’t working for the
company.

Jules: Yes I remember you took some amazing photos back then. I thought it was fascinating
to see pictures that captured different people going about their daily routines. Maybe it’s
just me but I think that there is a certain sincerity to photos of people that are unaware that
they’re actually being photographed.

Mark: (looks up at Jules and gives out a short burst of laughter) Yes I agree completely.
These pictures seem real and honest. Todays pictures though……
Mark’s sentence trails off. He looks off to the distance with a strange look on his face. His
eyes are glazed over. He seems far, far away and as if he is present in the room with his wife,
in body but not in mind. Jules looks up and stops peeling a carrot. She looks at Mark with her
eyes raised and in shock. His sudden change of behaviour has taken her by surprise. She
gazes at him curiously, wondering what could have caused him to become so lost and
distracted. She wonders if he is even aware that she is standing across the table from him at
all. She waits a few more seconds but then cannot take it anymore. Seeing him like this, so
distant and detached, has unnerved her. Her curios wonderment has turned to anxious
confusion. She wants her husband back in the room with her, not in a faraway place where
she is excluded. She calls out warily to her husband, her voice barely a whisper.

Jules: Ma-ark?

Mark jumps as if he was jolted with an electric shock. He glances over at Jules. He studies her
with confusion for a moment, as if he doesn’t understand how she came to be in the same
room as him. His eyes focus and he looks around the room, dazed. He shakes his head
slightly, as if he is trying to shake away whatever he was thinking about, wherever he was in
his mind, to get rid of the picture in his head. He smiles uncertainly and begins to talk. His
voice is quiet and unsure at first.

Mark: Ahh, yes, erm, where was I?

Jules: You were about to tell me about todays photos? I think….

Jules doesn’t take her eyes off of Mark. There is a worried look on her face. Mark clears his
throat and stands up straighter. He brushes an invisible piece of fluff off of his blazer jacket.
When he begins to speak again his voice is stronger and louder. He appears more confident
but there is still and uncertainty to his demeaner. Jules thinks she sees a spark of fear cross
his eyes but it disappears so quickly, she can’t be sure if it was real or if she imagined it. She
realises she is standing with a knife in one hand and a carrot in the other and has been for
the last few minutes. Slowly, she lowers both hands and places both knife and carrot on the
countertop in front of her. She reaches out her hands to lean slightly on the countertop,
using it as a prop for support. She stares at Mark intently as he speaks, never taking her eyes
off of him.

Mark: Ahh, yes. Todays pictures. I’m not quite sure what it is but…. ( Mark pauses, searching
for the right words to use) There’s just something different, something special about today’s
pictures.

Mark looks up and smiles brightly.

Mark: (cheerfully) I think it might be some of my finest work yet actually.

Jules: (still looking at Mark suspiciously, and with concern etched across her pale face. She
speaks slowly and carefully) Really?

Mark: (He plasters a wide grin onto his face and speaks loudly and quickly) Yes. I am actually
surprised with the outcomes of todays shots. There’s some with real potential. Some really
great potential, that’s for sure. I think people will like them, no love them. The photos, they
draw people in, with their honesty, their translucency and sincerity. There is no pretence, or
imitation, no walls or barriers to the truth. (Mark pauses for just a split second, but for long
enough for Jules to notice the shadow of sadness fall across his face, before being replaced
by the same cheery grin.) They really are, they’re something else I can tell ya! I’m thinking of
making an exhibition. There’s the makings of a good collection there already. Just some
small adjusting and editing to be done of course, but I think they might just be good enough
for their own exhibition. They really are something else! And who knows? Between today’s
shots and your Christmas bonus, we might just be able to build that nursery after all! (Mark
laughs quickly, a short harsh laugh that is nothing like the heart warming bellow that Jules is
so used to hearing.)

Jules’ face displays a mix of emotions. Confusion, bemusement, concern.

Jules: (Speaking slowly and with caution) I see….. And… what are these photos of exactly?

Mark: (Mark frowns and looks down, his face pinched with concentration as he searches for
an answer to Jules’ question.) Hmm. (He pauses for a moment in thought and when he
speaks again his words come out slowly as if selecting them carefully). Well I suppose these
pictures, they show love, and happiness, and human nature, most importantly I think. Yes
the beauty of human nature. ( Mark spits this last sentence out with a short bitter laugh. It
sounds harsh and cruel to Jules and she flinches) I suppose it would be easier to show you
the pictures instead of trying to explain.

Mark sits down at the kitchen table and takes out his large Nikon camera. He beckons to
Jules to sit down next to her. She slowly makes her way over to the table and sits down
looking quiet frightened now more than anything else. The sound of the chair grating
against the ground echoes in Jules’ ears now that the room is silent again after Marks’
outburst of speech. Mark turns on the camera and presses various buttons to find the photos
he is looking for. Jules sits at the table fiddling with her hands until Mark finally lifts up the
camera and faces it in such a way that both Mark and Jules can see the screen clearly. Jules
frowns at the screen. It takes her a moment to realise what the photo is of. Suddenly she
gasps loudly. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth which has dropped open. Her eyes are
wide and fill with tears immediately. Mark, sitting beside her, is silent. His face is dark and
stony. Jules’ eyes are locked on the screen, staring at the photo. She is unable to tear them
away. Mark presses a button and the photo changes. And again, and again the photo
changes. Jules and Mark are staring at photo after photo of Jules walking down the street.
Hand in hand with a tall, dark, handsome man. A tall, dark, handsome man, that isn’t Mark.
Jules and the man smiling, laughing, not a care in the world. The image of happiness. The
image of love. Jules and the man hugging. Jules and the man kissing. And the final photo of
the couple, with the mans hands on Jules’ bump. He is gazing up at Jules, with his eyes so full
of love, Jules looking back down at him just as lovingly, the happiest Mark has ever seen her.
Jules is shaking now, uncontrollably, as tears roll down her face. She looks at mark. Her face
is contorted and pinched with grief. She reaches out to touch Mark’s arm but he pulls away.
He is sitting staring at the camera, the last picture still on the screen. His face is blank. Jules
begins to talk. She hiccups in between sobs and her voice breaks on some words.

Jules: I, I’m so-(her body heaves as she sobs) I’m so sorry mark (whispering) So sorry. So so-

Mark holds up his hand, silencing Jules mid sentence. His voice sounds low and dead, empty
of any emotion.

Mark: I just want to know one thing. Is he- (He stops, takes a deep breath and starts again,
still staring straight at the table.) Is the baby mine Jules?

Jules slumps down onto the table. Her head hits the wood with a bang. Her whole body
shakes and heaves as she sobs into the table, each sob heavier than the last. Mark stands up
from the table without waiting for Jules to speak, he already knows the answer to his
question. His chair scrapes against the ground as he stands up from the table. He wordlessly
walks out of the kitchen and down the hall. The front door slams shut. The sound of a car
engine starting up can be heard, then of tyres turning on the gravel and then the sound of
the car engine grows quieter until it gradually disappears. Jules is left alone, slumped onto
the kitchen table, with just the sounds of her sobs echoing into the empty house.

The end

Ruth Flaherty.