The Polaroid Process In The Digital Era
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#21




Steady drizzle falling since 7 pm. Lamp posts, orange light. 10 pm. Shiny black sidewalk under your feet. A cigarette on the tip of my lips. Cold smoke. Wet face, and a quiet contentment. The need to be alone. The need of a good bed. To do it all over again tomorrow.

2 commentaires:

GI a dit…

Very nice text, lonesome poet !

David-Emmanuel Cohen a dit…

Thanks GI. I am glad you like it!