Fashion Sharks by Jimmy Boom Semtex
Copyright Jimmy Boom Semtex 2014 all rights reserved.
ISBN:
978-1-291-88457-9
978-1-291-88457-9
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any
person living or dead is purely coincidental. All situations here are a work of
fiction from the author's imagination.
person living or dead is purely coincidental. All situations here are a work of
fiction from the author's imagination.
In the park
It was a nice sunny day in Hiroshima. People were
enjoying the warm June sun on this Saturday afternoon in Wisteria Park. Amongst
them was one young lady who was frowning; her thoughts weren't on the sun. More
important things beckoned like the latest in ladies fashion. One particular
dress was causing her some consternation. The thin shoulder straps just didn't
look right. It was where they attached to the top of the dress. But on paper
they looked good. The lady, age 23 and called Jelma, frowned again.
enjoying the warm June sun on this Saturday afternoon in Wisteria Park. Amongst
them was one young lady who was frowning; her thoughts weren't on the sun. More
important things beckoned like the latest in ladies fashion. One particular
dress was causing her some consternation. The thin shoulder straps just didn't
look right. It was where they attached to the top of the dress. But on paper
they looked good. The lady, age 23 and called Jelma, frowned again.
"This isn't looking good. Well, it does on paper but
it won't for real, no. No not at all. That was confirmed on the test dress,"
Jelma muttered to herself.
it won't for real, no. No not at all. That was confirmed on the test dress,"
Jelma muttered to herself.
Everything
about the dress looks great, it's just those damned shoulder straps. I like
them, the way they look. Yet they didn't work on the test piece I made. So
annoying. I'll have to redesign them, if not the whole damn dress. Damn it. I
don't want to do that. The dress looks good. Just the straps. Jelma's
mind was fraught with tension. She was stressed. Not good. Pausing from her
pad, she put down her art pencil down and took a gulp of her drink. That's nice. I sure do love this sweet
grapefruit drink. Pocari Sweat. Silly name though. Silly like the problem with these
damned shoulder straps!
about the dress looks great, it's just those damned shoulder straps. I like
them, the way they look. Yet they didn't work on the test piece I made. So
annoying. I'll have to redesign them, if not the whole damn dress. Damn it. I
don't want to do that. The dress looks good. Just the straps. Jelma's
mind was fraught with tension. She was stressed. Not good. Pausing from her
pad, she put down her art pencil down and took a gulp of her drink. That's nice. I sure do love this sweet
grapefruit drink. Pocari Sweat. Silly name though. Silly like the problem with these
damned shoulder straps!
Pausing
for a few minutes, Jelma took time out. She stretched and knew she looked good
in her cut down grey jeans and pink top. Style was always with her. Minutes
slowly passed and her thoughts reformed themselves and she watched people in
the park. Some read magazines, others played football, many flew kites of
intricate design. More simply strolled in the ornate gardens. Many were couples
spending time together. Jelma drank the last of her grapefruit drink, crumpled
the can and put it in her bag to dispose of later.
for a few minutes, Jelma took time out. She stretched and knew she looked good
in her cut down grey jeans and pink top. Style was always with her. Minutes
slowly passed and her thoughts reformed themselves and she watched people in
the park. Some read magazines, others played football, many flew kites of
intricate design. More simply strolled in the ornate gardens. Many were couples
spending time together. Jelma drank the last of her grapefruit drink, crumpled
the can and put it in her bag to dispose of later.
She
went back to work. Minutes passed. Her right hand drew and traced lightly over
the design. In her pad were a dozen carbon copies, each allowed her to draw,
redraw, change, edit and come up with the right design. It had to be right. Many
had big black crosses through. Wrong! I'd
take all the time in the world but I can't. The deadline is there, hanging over
me like a katana held by a Samurai. Two days more...
went back to work. Minutes passed. Her right hand drew and traced lightly over
the design. In her pad were a dozen carbon copies, each allowed her to draw,
redraw, change, edit and come up with the right design. It had to be right. Many
had big black crosses through. Wrong! I'd
take all the time in the world but I can't. The deadline is there, hanging over
me like a katana held by a Samurai. Two days more...
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