Deja-vu

This town is like the back yard where the dogs I've never had would hide their bones, save them for later and dig them out when the time comes. But instead of bones I dig out memories, piles of memories. Every street, every corner, every little bench pushes me into the Gallery of Deja Vu and willingly or not I repeat my visits. Someday far far away from now we were sitting in the park in a summer morning. The sun playing with our hairs, the wind hugging us. The residual feeling of that day captured by this face on the picture. I remember it was mine.