Treasured Photograph


The last rays of the day filtered gently through the window bathing the room in a surreal, golden light as she stood behind me carefully brushing my honey-coloured hair.

Two generations apart reflected in the old mirror with the tarnished corners.

I watched her face as she brushed rhythmically and saw unusual tenderness on her eastern european face.  A naked, vulnerable expression of love, acceptance and peace reflected back at me.

A privileged moment shared.

The sun lowered, the light altered and her expression reverted one more reminiscent of the cold, war-torn country she left behind so many decades ago.

That fleeting, perfect point in time was gone but remains forever captured in my mind, like a treasured photograph.

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