Two women.
Different cultures.
Different generations.
Living in a world that insisted they stay apart.
Yet addiction had written them into the same story.
Standing behind my camera, I watched them lean into one another until every label dissolved.
There was no Indigenous. No Caucasian. No young woman. No mother. No pandemic.
There was only love.
My heart caught in my throat as I pressed the shutter.
This is what love looks like.
Sometimes, photographs become more than images. Sometimes, if you're paying attention, you catch a firefly, and you didn't even know it.
