Like reflections on a mirror surface, past memories rise to the conscience. Not enlightening revelations, not the truth about the now and then. Just fragments of a story without beginning and end, the only story I can tell.


Like reflections on a mirror surface, past memories rise to the conscience. Not enlightening revelations, not the truth about the now and then. Just fragments of a story without beginning and end, the only story I can tell.

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I love this photo. I have a thing for reflections, always did. As a young girl it inspired my imagination, hidden worlds appeared suddenly for those who look closely.
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