joeroberto
It contained everything she needed, not for basic survival but for feeding her soul and getting her through the day. Each morning she packed her backpack; if one vital piece was forgotten, her day was ruined- she would struggle to relax and there would be an emptiness gnawing at her until she returned home.
His life played out on a series of images on the screen before us, while his favourite song played in the background. Baby photos, photos of him as a mischievous toddler, first day at school and so on. Over time you saw how his features developed and changed, as he became a young man. The photos stopped a short while after he reached twenty-one, that's what brought us here, to this room, to watch this montage of his short life.
Memories covered the wall. So much so, the original wallpaper was lost behind them, like it had never existed. Through looking at the wall you could see how she'd changed over time. How her hair grew longer, shorter, the colour abruptly changing every so often, it was the same with her clothes and the people with whom she shared the photos, some people were in more photos than others; those were the real friends, the others only stuck around for a while. Above anything else, from looking at the montage I realised, nothing was constant except the change that occurred so often in her life.