As well as being a place to indulge my love of Hipstamatic and iPhone photos, this is a blog of images and words. Of little vignettes and quiet corners from a place in my head, a place I call The Moth House. Of significant, and also small, happenings there, the wanderings and musings and sad reveries of it's occupants, The Parted Lovers.
What did he miss the most?
It was the murmur of her voice in another room,
the quiet hum in the kitchen,
the clink of another knife on a plate at the table.
And in the evening,
her footstep on the boards outside their bedroom door.