Qingdao, China, 2020
I thought this view from a hilltop I stumbled upon in our neighbourhood a few days ago would make a pretty nice postcard, with a homesick poem scribbled on the back, if it was torn and scattered into the wind. It was late afternoon. I had a few beers up there as I was was slumping into a bluesy drunk on my lonesome while I waited for the light to give the concrete hive the perfect kiss. Just after I fired the shutter, a butterfly landed on the back of my hand. I tried not to move. We just stood like that for a while, the two of us, watching the sunset. Then it fluttered away on the hazy breeze, dragging the whole goddamned mess behind it into The West.
© Jac Kritzinger.
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