Faces of the night.

Spray paint on wood.


“The nights when paint was flowing like the fountain of youth over my hometown. The nights when our character was tested and our faces grew old. The nights when our eyes were peering into the abyss with the curious expectations of a child mounting its first step. Today those nights seem far away. Almost like a shadow luring in the dark. I’m still reminiscing the faces whom I can’t remember but are always carried with me.”

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