And all the hard words I ever feared to say can now be said. A story about fog and hollows by Ulriche Biets.
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A large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east. A photographic series by Charlotte Tanguy.