Pompéi, August 2012.
This is the last picture of the roll, the first one that appeared on top of the others when I got the photographs back from developement. It means everything. Beyond its simplicity, the purity of the lines, lie all kinds of blurry memories. Souvenirs of a summer’s day, of the wind, of the sounds, your laughter maybe, all of this I remember when seeing this image that has no direct connection to what we lived and what it was, this journey. The first and the last of all our days.