Saturday, March 11, 2011
The first time, I just extended my hand looking at her green t-shirt; her gaze fixed on my face the whole time through. It didn’t last long, I left without impressions. Only with a premonition that was quickly disproved. The second time she was sitting in front of me, I was looking at her curved spine. At some point she reached across the table for a photo book of the painter I was researching in Brussels. I couldn't tell… Was she really turning the pages for my sake?
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Tara says:
I miss our day together. I didn’t know your painter died so young.
Every day the story continues in this spot until the end of March
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