"Perhaps one day someone from a distant land will listen to this story of mine. Isn't this what lies behind the desire to be inscribed in the pages of ...
To be left with only the trace of a memory is to gaze at an armchair that's still molded to the form of a love who has left never to return: It is to grieve, dear reader, it is to weep.
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
To be left with only the trace of a memory is to gaze at an armchair that's still molded to the form...
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