If we disappear and nobody notices, then we don't actually disappear. Because for someone to disappear, they have to be missed. A memory from a forgotten time, a golden age. I am showing them as found, not restored or colour corrected but the original image as seen from another's eye.
This week: Under blue skies we clutch to childhood as it passes like a dream.
This week: Under blue skies we clutch to childhood as it passes like a dream.
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