sliding along the eyes

“You will walk differently alone, dear, through a thicker atmosphere, forcing your way through the shadows of chairs, through the dripping smoke of the funnels. You will feel your own reflection sliding along the eyes of those who look at you. You are no longer insulated; but I suppose you must touch life in order to spring from it.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is the Night

*one song a day  (this one sung in a whisper so as not to wake the house) & at least one photo a day

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