Art in the French Quarter.

Reflection in the glass.

A moody image. Lost in the mists of The French Quarter. One early morning.

I saw the mannequin. Eyes peering out at me. If I didn’t know where I was. On Royal Street. I might have thought the face was real.

I stepped back. Wanting to add a little mystery to the picture. I snapped once. Twice. Three times.

I was finished. With this little scene.

I kept walking.

 

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