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The Front Door
While I (and the postman) struggle to sail calm across the reality of his choices (I find myself dithering next to responsibility that I am unsure it is right to pick up, the postman finds himself with wet clothes and muddy feet) he is happy in his now, my Father.
© Elizabeth Fitt 2016. All rights reserved.
Image size: 21.9 Mpixels (62.8 MB uncompressed) - 3828x5734 pixels (12.8x19.1 in / 32.4x48.5 cm at 300 ppi)
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