JB + DL
The snow covered brick bones, added contrast against the dark navy blue-black of night fall. I traced the initials in the bricks. Who where they who sat here, experiencing life when life had four walls? Would they know how fire ate up what remained of a home-box of memories? It's now a burnt photograph book of a dance over the threshold; making love in a charred bed. Did they survive life? Survive each other? Survive themselves? A relationship can burn like fire, one side passion, the other destruction. I will get no answers to my curiosity, only that they live on, in these initials carved into the home's final remaining skeleton.