The Angel had a fight with her boyfriend, apparently regarding the baby in the stroller.
It sounded like Czech. Do they speak Czech in heaven?
The argument ended with the boyfriend taking the baby and leaving the stroller.
An Angel with an empty stroller.
She sighed, and sat down to finish putting on her make-up. She does most of it at home, saving only the final touches for when she comes to work.
‘Work’ is that same place, night after night, on the sidewalk of a street choke-full of tourists in Barcelona. 'Work' begins around 10 pm or so, and ends when her feet beg for a break.
As she notices me, she winks with her long, golden eyelashes. I smile back.
Like a majestic butterfly in the making - a butterfly in a white-and-gold dress, she dons her wings.
No easy task, either. The straps are a little too tight.
But she does not fly. Instead, she takes off her green flip-flops, and stands on her pedestal that once was a fruit crate.
Her transformation is now complete. She smiles warmly at a little girl that stops in admiration.
I leave a euro in her plastic bucket, to thank her for indulging with my observation. She smiles and waves for me to come closer.
She offers me a piece of crystal, which turns into a vulgar piece of plastic as soon as it lands in my hand.
Apologies for the low-quality photos.. I need a new camera!
It sounded like Czech. Do they speak Czech in heaven?
The argument ended with the boyfriend taking the baby and leaving the stroller.
An Angel with an empty stroller.
She sighed, and sat down to finish putting on her make-up. She does most of it at home, saving only the final touches for when she comes to work.
‘Work’ is that same place, night after night, on the sidewalk of a street choke-full of tourists in Barcelona. 'Work' begins around 10 pm or so, and ends when her feet beg for a break.
As she notices me, she winks with her long, golden eyelashes. I smile back.
Like a majestic butterfly in the making - a butterfly in a white-and-gold dress, she dons her wings.
No easy task, either. The straps are a little too tight.
But she does not fly. Instead, she takes off her green flip-flops, and stands on her pedestal that once was a fruit crate.
Her transformation is now complete. She smiles warmly at a little girl that stops in admiration.
I leave a euro in her plastic bucket, to thank her for indulging with my observation. She smiles and waves for me to come closer.
She offers me a piece of crystal, which turns into a vulgar piece of plastic as soon as it lands in my hand.
Apologies for the low-quality photos.. I need a new camera!
4 comments:
u should go to a hand doctor
Lirun, whatever happened to your romantic spirit..
A lovely photo essay. :)
awww
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