The Green-Eyed Monster Coffee Break Tale
Just what would Beth’s jealousy of her friend Marie lead her to do?
You’re not going to believe this,” said Marie, her eyes glowing. “I won the Lincoln Photography contest for best nature photo.”
Beth felt two things at once: a genuine happiness for Marie’s success, and an overwhelming jealously. She’d entered that contest, too, with no success.
“Congratulations,” Beth said, as those emotions battled. “That’s amazing.”
“I’m still pinching myself. A thousand pounds in prize money. And I owe my success to you, Beth.” “Me? Why?” “Because you’re so inspiring. Your enthusiasm for photography sparked something in me the first day we met. And your encouragement gave me the confidence to enter the competition.”
Beth felt torn. Marie was such a lovely person and they’d clicked straight away, but how could she be friends with someone she was in competition with?
It hadn’t seemed to be a problem when they first met at the local amateur photography club, probably because Beth had contest wins under her belt – minor ones true, but regular enough so she felt a sense of pride and accomplishment.
However, as Marie’s successes grew, Beth’s became few and far between. Jealousy reared its unpleasant head.
“That’s nice of you to say, Marie, but I haven’t done anything. You’re a quick learner, and the photos you take are always amazing.”
They were, and that’s what made it even worse. Beth couldn’t help comparing their photos, and hers came up short every time. Marie had a way of adding an extra something to her shots, to frame a subject and capture a mood in a way that Beth never could.
“Thanks, but so are yours,” Marie said now. “You should have won the animal category. Capturi ing that cat in mid leap ov ver the fence… it’s one of the best photos I’ve e ever seen.”
That’s how nice she was, and BethB used to appreciate herh compliment ts, but now it ju ust seemed to make thin ngs worse. If BethB couldn’t even win a minor aw ward in the same competi titions then she didn’t feel tale ented at all.
What was mostst crushingcru was that she’d thought she had found theh one thing in life she was good at, that she was passionate about.
Now she was starting to feel like she never wanted to pick up a camera again. That’s what hurt the most. And that’s why she had to do something about it.
At home that night she went through the old family albums. There she was, Beth’s grandmother. She remembered how she liked to smoke cigars and had an accent Beth could listen to for hours, a blend of various European lilts. Beth loved her but was always a little afraid of her strange ways, and the things she taught.
Beth started sketching. Drawing wasn’t her forte, but it was the eyes that brought the picture to life. Green eyes.
When she finished she took the picture to the fireplace, and lit a match. It was funny how easily Beth could remember the words her grandmother taught her after all these years. She recited the words as the sketch burned… As the ashes fell, Beth could only hope the spell worked, so she could reclaim what was important to her.
Aweek later, at the next photography club meeting, Beth looked around and couldn’t see Marie anywhere.
She walked over to the photography wall. Each month their Club had an in-house competition, open subject. Next to Marie’s photo of an abandoned, derelict farmhouse was a blue ribbon. First place. Next to Beth’s, a bird mid-flight, nothing.
Just then, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Beth turned and stared straight into Marie’s face, and her blue eyes.
“Hi, Beth, I was starting to wonder if you were OK. You haven’t answered my emails or texts.” “Sorry, I was really sick for a week.” “Oh, no! Nothing serious I hope?” It was serious. The burning ritual had made her ill. But that was to be expected. After all, it hadn’t been easy to purge the green-eyed monster inside her.
“First place for you again.” Beth smiled, without a trace of jealousy.
For the first time in ages she was happy again. Now she could focus on what was truly important to her.
Friendship.