During ciggie breaks at a former, former job, I’d see this bloke almost every day sitting, smoking and waiting outside a kind of activity centre/craft workshop catering to the elderly, presumably for his wife. I developed a slightly disconcerting obsession with him.
I eventually got the courage to ask him if I could take his photo.
He gave me that perfect, almost imperceptible Aussie nod and said, ‘No worries.’
I love fading tattoos on a hard-faced bloke.
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