Continuing in vaguely philosophical mode….
She approaches with no hint of a smile
“One photograph” she demands
Pointing at my camera
She sits on the step before me
Fixes me with her gaze
Challenging me to walk by
I take one photograph
A portrait that captures a moment in time forever
What is she thinking, what lies behind those eyes?
She reaches into her bag
Pulls out a faded and torn photograph
A memory or a memorial?
Her dead daughter and grandchildren she says
Handing me a piece of card
“…I have no money” it says
She fixes me with her gaze again
Daring me to break our unspoken contract
“…give me your pieces of silver…” JC :10 September 2011