PHOTOBOMBED: a story in 60 seconds

“I don’t trust words. I trust pictures.” --– Gilles Peress

“I should’ve learned my lesson by now,” Karina said as she carefully lifted a bra strap and inspected her sunburnt shoulder.

Jack climbed into bed beside his new wife and kissed her blistered skin. “My delicate porcelain princess,” he said, stroking her hair, “maybe it’s time to move on from the SPF 15 and go with something a tad bit stronger.”

Karina shook her head in protest, but even the slightest movement made her wince.

“I have an idea,” Jack began. “How about we stay in the hotel room tomorrow and take a break from the sun? We can order room service, sleep late, maybe partake in some extracurriculars…”

Karina didn’t bite.

“I’ll see how I’m feeling,” she replied casually. “But in the meantime, can you hand me my phone? It’s on the dresser.”

Jack sighed.

As Karina scrolled, the only noise you could hear was the air conditioner struggling to combat the balmy Caribbean heat. Suddenly, she tilted the screen in Jack’s direction. “Ugh, look how cute we are. I love that jacket on you. It makes your shoulders look so broad.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t we wait until we’re back home to relive the honeymoon?”

Karina ignored him. “Oh, wow. My ass looks great in this one.”

Jack grunted. “Yeah, it seems like the guy behind you agrees.”

A middle-aged man wearing khaki shorts and a wide-brimmed Panama hat stood in the background, his eyes fixated intently on Karina.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said with a smirk while continuing to scroll through the photo roll.

She stopped at a picture of them eating lunch. “Remember those fish tacos? Probably the best I’ve ever had. What were they again? Kingfish?”

But Jack wasn’t focused on the food. “Zoom in,” he said, pointing at the screen. “Look, there’s that guy again. He’s at the far table next to the bar.”

“Yep, I guess that’s him. It’s like some creepy version of Where’s Waldo,” Karina answered, doing her best to sound cool.

Jack shook his head. “I don’t know; it seems strange.”

Karina stopped at another flattering shot. “Oooo, I’m obsessed with this bikini. Maybe I’ll wear it out on the catamaran this Friday…”

“—And apparently, so is Waldo,” Jack interrupted her.

And there he was again, stretched out on a poolside recliner, fully clothed.

“Oh, relax,” Karina said, her voice now noticeably less confident. “You shouldn’t be so surprised that men check me out when I wear a two-piece. Besides, it’s a small resort.”

With slight hesitation, the couple continued scrolling through photos. Finally, they came to their most recent excursion, a hike to an abandoned colonial fort that ended at a secluded beach.

“Jack…”

“I’m calling the front desk,” he said abruptly, getting out of bed.

“What are you going to say?”

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out after I get a hold of someone.”

He hurried across the room and picked up the phone. While listening to the empty dial tone, his eyes drifted out the window and down into the dimly lit hotel courtyard. At first, he didn’t see anything, but then, in the grim light of the tiki torches, he saw him, the man from the photos, staring up into their room, a smile across his face, waving in Jack’s direction.

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