"He looked very tired, a regard which manifested itself not in dark circles, or pallor, but a dreamy and bright-cheeked sadness.
And, lying on my bed in some biscuit-colored hotel room in Nice, with a balcony facing the Promenade des Anglais, I watch the clouds reflected on sliding panes and marvel even how my sadness can make me happy . . .
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
And, lying on my bed in some biscuit-colored hotel room in Nice, with a balcony facing the Promenade...
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