She marveled at his work from a world away. He marveled at the world she had never seen, even though the dust of her ancestors littered the soil.
There was something splendidly spectacular about his ability to capture a moment of Father Time in that foreign land that held specs of her stardust. His eye was marvelous. He didn’t take pictures. He made them.
She printed them off, knowing full well that she would never meet the one with the magic eyes and the magic mind who made beautiful moments with a deep breath and a click of his shutter. But she did know she would pass those pictures down forever- till they were dust.
Countess
@jacobgraphy has a genius eye. Thank you, my friend.














