I knew this girl. A beautiful girl. Prettier than any other girl I had met. She was a one in a million kind of girl. Not many were like her. And she swore they all wanted to be her. But I loved her nonetheless.
She took these photos, beautiful, magnificent photos. I would look forward to them. They provided a certain service for her. They filled a void. They were personal. Artistic. Special. But they were not simply of her. They were of her mind. Her soul, her heart.
That girl. One day she stopped taking those photos. She lost her mind, She lost her soul, She lost her spirit, She lost her will. Her spark was gone.