I have a "thing" for windows. Passing by the old houses in historic Sozopol I wander what stories are hidden within them. What lies behind dusty windows and tightly shut blinds? Was this ones someone's happy home, filled with laughter? My imagination goes wild...
Right now they look sad. Deserted. Bent under the pressure of times past. It's a different kind of beauty this...severe in a way.
An empty house is like a lonely person...They need love. A tender touch to awaken them and return them to their former, long forgotten glory.
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