Saturday, March 27, 2010

bus ride in my/her eyes




Every wrinkle on her face is a thought, a memory.. Eyes are always tired, but full of hope. She's looking out the window, still thinking what to do after she lost her job; getting a bit annoyed by me with my phone right by her face. I ask her not to move, and she listens. She always listens and thinks, my mom.

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