One of my admittedly strange pastimes is to browse through old photographs - snapshots of real people wearing my most beloved fashions, with their goofy, pretty or contemplative faces glaring back at me from the yellowed frames...
Through this window to someone's soul, this crumble of someone's existence, I sometimes get the odd crush on strangers, and I wonder: who were these people? were they happy? were they loved? have they achieved what they set out to, have they obtained what they desired? have they lived full lives? and have they really grown old, became ill, died? ...have they survived perhaps in someone's heart?...
No answers, only a smile shared through time.
And soon this too is to be dust...