One ticket
Our hands are on my shoulders, they give me encouraging
shoulder pats for my first steps. Our arms wrap around my body to
cover me from the cold, cold winds of these foreign lands.
Our feet, they slowly stumble through the streets,
past our houses, away from the comfort of our
sheets. On our shoulders is my bag, filled with stuff to prepare me
for all the places I’ll see. And we walk to the edge (airport) together,
side by side like we’re one. Conveniently ignoring the fact,
that I only have
one ticket.
The Photo
More about how to create surrealistic photographs coming soon.