A street performer played something tender. One girl reached for the other, wordless. The offer was simple: dance with me. She did — and for a moment, nothing else existed. Just laughter, motion, and a rhythm only they could hear.
I had a few frames of Lomochrome Purple left in my Nikon F6. I shot them, hoping to catch a flicker of that joy. Maybe it was selfish — to try and keep a piece of something that was never meant to last. But that’s what film does. It holds the echo, not the moment.
out of context · art 