The photo of the day burned into Danielle's eyes. Every inch of Katie'sflesh memories, what clothes she wore, how she smelt, the sound of hervoice. Of...all the memories Danielle loved it was the next that she heldonto the most. As Katie had left Danielle sat crossed leg on the floor thesilver locket now firmly around her neck, she rose on to her knees andmoved a few inches forward before rising to her feet. The moment had slowedand Danielle had see directly down Katie's open top to the two small. The whole of us was more than the sum of all our experiences. It was too big to imagine, too massive to understand. I wanted to discover as much as I could and for as long as it took. Even then, I might not succeed. An absurdity perhaps but I would never give up.There was no “l'esprit de l'escalier”. Elodie was my muse and I painted this picture. In its imagery my feelings for her and in her eyes, I saw it: a look of adoration.This carefree exhilaration, the joy, and swirling disco. More

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