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they ride like they’ve done it a hundred times, in sync without trying. her curls catch the light, his glance looks back, maybe just to check the way the sun hits her shoulders. this tunnel of glass and silence belongs to them now. valencia slows for a second, just enough to notice.
beneath the soft curve of centuries-old stone, a lone figure bends toward the light—slow, deliberate, caught in a rhythm older than the hallway itself. her shadow, delicate and sure, traces memory across the cobbled floor as time stands still at the threshold.
he leans back, cigar in hand, caught between two directions — the city behind him, his mirror self ahead. they’re the same man, almost. one smokes, the other waits. one real, the other questioning. for a moment, they breathe in sync. and then not.
Macro shot of a snail shell perched on a blade of grass against a clear blue sky in Esztergom, Hungary.
Loved these sights, while walking through a small village at the end of our hike last Saturday - Sant'Albano (PV) Italy