Invasion of Privacy Snapshots

"Paul worked out of a small office on the third and top floor of a building off Ocean Avenue in Carmel. Big Sur, to the south, and Monterey, just over the Carmel hill, added to his client base."

"The office had one thing to recommend it. The main window overlooked the neighboring courtyard of the Hog's Breath Inn, a restaurant and bar where he spent much of his free time. While he searched for tiny bug tracks in cyberspace, Paul looked down at the courtyard, where tourists in shorts mixed with local business types. One dark-haired girl with pale white skin, wearing a halter top that showed off her magnificent breasts, sat down cross-legged, disconsolate, alone. Should he quit now and go down early?"

The slow grace of the first few moments of the scene gave way to an increasingly frantic-looking series of cuts as the girl walked up the trail, fragmenting and distorting into the night, fading as she proceeded. On a big wide flat granite boulder, the girl who looked so much like Tamara Sweet sat down, looking around as if she expected someone. She wore a white rabbit fur jacket, black jeans and cowboy boots. The camera moved in close, caressing the soft fur. In the gray gloom of the evening her body lost its shape and individuality, melding into the rock.

The camera moved back. The trail recaptured its empty peacefulness, as the strains of the music played out and the camera panned down, down, down, into the grit of leaves, rock and dirt that made the pathway, and a final caption flickered on and off, "The End."