"Thea! Bring another rose over here. I think we should put one under her chin," Dennis said, pacing around the set looking at his composition critically from the side, from the top, from the back. "No - wait. It's not more flowers we need - it's fewer. I'm not liking those roses at the top of her head."
"Listen, Dennis," replied Thea, with irritation. "We've got to get this finished...the roses are starting to look like crap! The girl is going have to move around..you cannot expect her to lie there much longer. Stop fiddling around and get the shots!"
Dennis threw her a look, frowned and said, "You're right, the roses are fading, but I'm starting to like them better. Let's wilt them all. Can you do that? And I'm going to throw off the focus on the right side." He climbed to his camera and buried his face in his lenses.
Thea sighed and trudged off to get her wilting sprays. "Here we go again!" she muttered to herself, "Making up the set for the third time." As much as she resented the time spent agonizing over details, she had to admit that, as usual, he was right. The wilted roses would look better. The shot would be beautiful.