Foto di Patrick von der Wehd su Unsplash
I couldn’t stand being in that house any longer. Every time I went up to the main floor to bring tea to the Countess, I had to pass by the mirrors. Horrible things. They were placed facing one another, under the pretense that it would make the space seem larger. Nonsense. I felt as though I were being sucked into that infinite multitude of mirrors, growing smaller and smaller. In the end, far off in the distance, all that could be seen was my little white crinoline cap. And so, whenever I had to deliver the tea, I would leap past the mirrors. I know where the young master who disappeared ended up. He’s inside the mirrors.
Caption: In the mirrors
To know more about the project ‘photo-story-words’ read here.
