I looked at my hands holding my camera, as if they were someone else’s. I wanted to take a step back but my tears started running. One fell on her eye. Words that got stuck in my throat for 25 years found their way out.

‘The last time we spoke, he talked about life being worthless. Like my love didn’t matter. Five days later he was dead.’ She just stood there, motionless. But she was the only one that could not help it. 

There was just me, the wind and some vague recordings coming from her belly. I guess her battery was never replaced since the day she was bought by my uncle in Boston.

 I didn’t feel like dragging her around anymore, so I left her where I had just staged her. My tear was rolling down her cheek as I turned my back on her.