The boys huddled in closer by the campfire, the light flickering off the badges and brass buttons of their scouting uniforms.
The museum orbited the dead world.
It would be easy to describe their existence as idyllic…
I am not a dancer.
Francisco Goya stargazes.
The photo is of a group of men on a stage, with musical instruments; a “band”, they were called.
I found a dead woman’s shadow once, while walking the streets of Nagasaki.