Blood orange

We sat and watched. My feet where dangling from the edge. I could see the water flowing beneath me. I held on tight to my camera. The wind blew soft and the sun was setting. I could hear street musicians and construction workers. I saw tourists slowly crossing the bridge. I could see couples and families and individuals, – and they all seemed so precious. The sky turned to a darker orange and contrasted with the silhouette of the nearby bridge. I focussed my camera which resulted in a two-toned picture. The orange of the sky so still and black of the street lanterns and people. People we did not knew, and we never will. I showed it to my mother, and she said that it was a nice picture, she said that ‘paris was such a peaceful city’

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