Photographer
The itinerant gripped his tripod firm, scattering from one corner to another like lab mice with electric switches; no matter how shocked, he’d always return some later day with a new layer of painted ambition glimmering off his teeth. His mind’s door has ‘quit now’ littered in Post-Its, but his heart took the control of his limbs.
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And the heart will always make limbs carry on. Strong ff. Have a great night.