A short meeting with Death. Hands are shaken. Kisses on the cheeks. Proceeding into the garden to serve the tea. We quietly talk about The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Death is telling me a riddle. We laugh. She points her finger at a child. I wish to be an anecdote. It isn't. She continues to talk, rather hoarse. The traffic light is red. I'm being asked: "Aren't your lungs hurting from breathing for so many years?". I look straight into her eyes without replying. She gets flustered. Silence. She gets up, I get up. She kisses my forehead, pets my head. She leaves. I'm asking her: "Am I going to see you again?" She turns around and winks at me.
Good writing combination with that a little scary but artistic photograph!
Thanks, Jane! :)
Îmi place de mor.
Ha! Merciii :)
WOW. cool shot and an excellent post!
I love the way photos and texts fit together. congratulations my dear friend
"upboater" is a small gift.
Oh, my!, thanks, @artizm! Hugs! :x
Nice photo and nice story, death can be met at any time, it is worth remembering about this
Everyone has to die one day, this post scared me little bit.
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"Śmierć w miękkim futerku" ("Death in soft fur") is an album of a jazz band Niechęć - i thought about that after reading your entry.
Thanks! Will be listening when I get home from work. Feedback incoming. :)
I love the connection between the picture and the writing.