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Our little old Christmas tree sparkles—bright, patient, faithful. The evening surrounds me lwhile every bulb feels like a memory suspended in light tender and full.
Gabriel laid near the tree, holding one of the packages, marked with his name, above his head. He shakes it gently, as if the answer might rattle loose. I don’t stop him. This...
A lovely first day catching up. I didn’t take a single photo of our day I was too absorbed in the moment.
Gabriel spent the night with us, and after the happiness of Sacha’s arrival, he had a hard time falling asleep. As he lay in bed, trying to drift off, the sweetest smile rested on his face. I asked him if he was reliving the day he...
These two are clearly a couple. Bound together by history, gravity, and matching frames that were once gilded and beautiful. Time has not been kind. Nor has moisture. They are barely hanging on.
She is attempting dignity, but dignity has cracked—literally—right across her forehead and is making a daring escape toward her temple. Her hair...
The lady pauses at the counter to loosen her gloves, easing them off one finger at a time, and puts them in her small beaded bag. She whispers with her eyes to her child who stands close, eyes level with the glass-topped boxes arranged in careful rows, each one no bigger than a matchbox, each holding something needed, «Don’t touch. »
