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The Real Story

The moment they forgot my camera, forgot I was there, was the moment that their story really started to tell itself.

Not the tale of what they look like, or what they wore, but of what they mean to one another.

The chapter in their lives when two little boys still fit in their arms.

The day one laughed playing in the leaves, and the other hated the feeling of them on his bare toes.

Laughing about being lost in a pile of leaves together.

I shoot lots of pictures of people smiling back at me, but they never warm my heart like the ones where they hardly even notice I’m there.

They forgot me, but I didn’t mind, because I know they’ll always remember how they felt looking at each other.





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