Selfies by Rob Dinsmoor

Rob Dinsmoor

Terra and I are almost like identical twins. When I first met her, she was, like nobody. Don’t get me wrong—like me, she had a killer bod and pretty face, but there was just no real personality shining through. I took her under my wing. The only thing was, I got tired of hanging out with her and just couldn’t figure out a way to tell her without breaking her heart. Not that anything bad had happened between us. I was just ready to move on.

It all came to a head one afternoon. You will not believe what happened. We’re in our pink bikinis standing knee-deep in the public swimming pool and we look really hot! I mean, porn star hot. We both have pink iPhones and we’re taking selfies with them. I take a picture with the phone in my left hand while flipping my hair over my ear with the right. Terra does the same thing. She’s learned a lot from me.

It’s kind of ridiculous to be taking so many pictures of ourselves, so now we start to take pictures of each other: Standing with our backs to the camera while looking back over our shoulders, so that people can see our cute faces and our cute butts at the same time. Wrapping our arms around ourselves to look like the water’s cold and we’re shivering. Looking off in the distance as if we’re longing for something and don’t know we’re being caught on film.

I see a really hot old guy, like almost thirty, but he’s still got it together and he’s really ripped. I notice him noticing us. “Will you take a couple of pictures of us?” I ask, really apologetically, even though I know he’d chew off his own leg for the chance.

His face brightens up. “Sure!”

We have him snap us while we’re splashing each other—though not really hard, because we don’t want to get our hair wet. And then I look like I’m going to pull down Terra’s bikini bottoms and she does the same thing to me. And then we’re rubbing each other with suntan lotion. We really get into it now that we have an audience. His eyes get that faraway look, like he’s drifted off into a dream world. “Thanks!” I say, taking the camera back from him.

“We should do some in a mirror,” Terra says.

“Where do you see a mirror?” I ask.

“The rest room? Duh!” Sometimes Terra comes up with great ideas. It’s probably from hanging out with me so much.

After a couple of minutes waiting in line, taking pictures, we go in together and lock the door. Terra walks up to the mirror over the sink and I start to take her picture.

“No, wait. There’s something I have to tell you,” she says. “I owe so much to you, so it’s really hard to say what I have to say now. Before I met you, I didn’t know how to dress or act. You showed me how. And I’m, like, soooo thankful for that! You remember you asked me where I was from, and you couldn’t pronounce the name of it? Well, it’s actually a planet in the star system of Alpha Centauri.”

“I thought it must be in, like, Canada, or something!”

“I landed here in a pod and when I hatched, I didn’t’ even know how to look and act human, so I had to learn to fake it. You’re the best role model I’ve had so far.”

As if she doesn’t think I’ll believe her, her skin starts to turn a sickly green, her arms start to shrivel up while her fingers get longer, and now they’re like ten tentacles coming out of her sides. And her two eyes kind of melt together like one, her hair turns into scales, and now her feet are all webbed. All of this while wearing a pink bikini, and it starts to make me sick.

“Gross!” I say. “Trust me. You really don’t want to look in the mirror right now!”

“I just need to show you so you’ll understand—and I need to tell you now that I’ve learned everything I can from you—it’s time to move on.”

“Sure, whatever,” I say. As if I want to hang out with a freak.

“I’m going to assume your identity for a while, at least until some better identity comes along. I’m really sorry. I have to keep this a secret, so I’m going to have to eat you to dispose of the evidence.” She opens her mouth, which is now bigger than my entire head.

Without thinking, I lift my iPhone and snap her picture. It is dark in the bathroom, so the flash goes off. Terra cups her hands over her giant eye. “Ow, that’s epic overkill! My eye’s not used to that kind of light!” And she’s carrying on, making such a big deal out of it.

“Well, gee, maybe if you’d have to told me you were this one-eyed scaly squid thing from hell, I’d have planned my day accordingly!” I say, unlocking the bathroom door. “By the way, just so you know, I’m posting this photo on Facebook and I’m tagging you!”

“Noooooo!” she shrieks, and she is still shrieking when I step out the door to face a line of other girls.


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1 Response to Selfies by Rob Dinsmoor

  1. uneasywriter says:

    Lollollol! This is soooo appropriate to these times of self-involvement. I loved this very original piece of work.

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