Golden days

It was Charlotte’s first time in Malaysia. I visited her in KL, the big city, a few months ago, and when she finally had a long weekend off, she decided to make a trip to Penang. 

Coming on a long weekend was a mistake. What she expected to be a 4 hour bus ride turned out to be an 11 hour one. She arrived starving with an almost dead phone. The first thing I took her to was for a meal – and it wasn’t just because of Penang’s fame for food. 

We visited the usual touristy sights, with the biggest struggle being parking. We also ate non-stop – the itinerary was something like: sightseeing, food, sightseeing, food, sightseeing, food, dessert. I said we burnt it off from the distance we had to walk, as I normally had to park my car much further from where we were going. 

I’d said I would show her the beach, but when I looked up the route on Waze, the traffic was a crawling, blood-red vein. We ended up going to a nearer, smaller and more peaceful one, and there, we shot some photos. Just like old days.


Cromer Pier

I met Lucy over the summer. She’d come, flown thousands of miles across the globe, to the island that is my hometown for an internship. We find out that she goes to the same university in England as my sister. 

Half a year later, I pack my bags and visit my sister at her campus. Lucy and I are ecstatic to meet again – it almost feels unreal. It’s a typically rainy day but still she drives both my sister and I to a nearby beach town. The pier remains statuesque in the gloom. 

We wander for a bit, drink some tea in a cafe before heading back to town. 


Claire moon

She inhabited the house her grandmother used to live in, surrounded by collections of driftwood and whisky bottles. A yellowing fan hung from the ceiling that reached to the skies and the stars found themselves on the cold concrete ground. Every year, she shredded her old skin and draped it over the fence. Someone always collected it within a day. 

This time, I followed her in. She turned around, and laughed before I shot her through the bare pale cage that held everything inside together.

A small series of portraits of Claire taken around three weeks ago. 

She inhabited the house her grandmother used to live in, surrounded by collections of driftwood and whisky bottles. A yellowing fan hung from the ceiling that reached to the skies and the stars found themselves on the cold concrete ground. Every year, she shredded her old skin and draped it over the fence. Someone always collected it within a day. 

This time, I followed her in. She turned around, and laughed before I shot her through the bare pale cage that held everything inside together.

A small series of portraits of Claire taken around three weeks ago. 

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