The dangerous side-effects of the duckface (a fictional, cautionary tale)

She remembers the first time she realised there was something wrong. That day, her close friend from high school was getting married and she was with her mum at the reception venue. The bagole were about to arrive and the MC was telling the guests to ready themselves to give the newlyweds a befitting welcome. Despite the celebratory occasion, she was somewhat sad because the battery of her smartphone was so low and she was unable to take selfies to share on social media and let the word know how flawless she looked. The cameraman rushed by her to go and set up position strategically.

This was when she first felt it…an involuntary movement by her lips outwards. She paid no attention to it then. When the cameraman next passed her, the lip motion was more pronounced, and once again, it wasn’t something she had done consciously. This time, she was slightly concerned, but her short attention span brushed it away and she drifted back to wondering when her turn to look glorious in a wedding gown would come. She convinced herself that she was pleased for her friend and tried hard to suppress the feelings of jeras that kept on trying to rise. Her most recent breakup had been particularly nasty, but she had dealt with it swiftly by filling her instagram with several pictures of herself looking fab, accompanied by google-supplied quotes about turning a new leaf…leaving the past behind..and others along those lines.

About 30 minutes later, the person seated across from her pulled out their phone to take a picture of the high table. This time, her lips stretched so far outwards that her mum, who was sitting next to her noticed and ask reprimanding ‘What are you pointing at with your lips? I thought I told you those were bad manners?’ ‘That’s not what I was trying to do ma.’ she responded guiltily, ‘I was just trying to remove a piece of meat from my teeth.’ Her mother didn’t look convinced and told her to go and find a toothpick. The worrying bit is she hadn’t even seen the neighbour remove their phone. The force of the lip stretching had been so strong it had managed to turn her head sideways in time to see the man take his photo.

The moment she knew she really had a problem on her hands was when the bagole were cutting their cake, and everyone had their cameras focused on them. This time round, the involuntary outward stretching of her lips was so strong it jerked her out of her seat towards the cake-cutting bagole in a half walk, half stumble. She pulled out her now blacked out phone so that her mother, who was now looking at her with a mixture of concern and suspicion, would think she was going to take a picture of the bagole too….[to be continued, maybe.]

*This tale is inspired by a very pretty acquaintance who, on a Friday night out a few weeks ago, posed for a photo by reflex even though the camera was pointing at different people.

Written by Byagaba Roland

Roland is a random badman. He suffers from Mephobia.

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