I have passed this laneway, Dame Edna Place, many times over the years. For all that while, the wall bore no likeness of him—or her—no portrait to fix the passing gaze. There came a season, too, when his name was clouded by rumours of old transgressions, whispered and unresolved. After that, he withdrew into silence, retreating from the public ear, until at length he died, quietly, and was heard from no more.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Linking Mural Monday
