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.


The slow drip of the tap, 
the quiet tick of the clock,
each little sound reminding her 
of her aloneness.
Of what she has lost.

What she gave up.


Martin H. said...

I can hear that clock, ticking, and adding up all that has slipped away from her.

nancy said...

Ohhhhhhhh. This felt all too familiar. great image. xo