She comes in like a little lost lamb. Library bun, sensible shoes, pleated skirt. I wink at Rosie behind the bar and she slides me a tequila shot. When babycakes walks by, I grab her arm. "I should sit here?" "That's your drink, girl." "Can you show me th...
It's the last run and the bus is empty, but for Alice, halfway back, reading a dog-eared romance. She braces against the stop, watching with bowed head as the wild child boards. She struts her tatted leather preen to the opposite seat. Eyes connecting, sh...
I don't usually shoot pictures of people when I'm walking, but today's an exception. Two ladies, park regulars. Mature, elegant, refined, they sit with an intimacy that speaks of an enduring friendship. "Look, it's that photographer lady, taking our pictu...
