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  • As a young man,17 years ago, I walked by this wall with a swagger in my step; propelled along by a sense of adventure, a longing for love, and a healthy dose of naivety. I vaguely remember seeing someone in the window looking down at me and making eye contact. Almost 20 years later, I walked by again, but slower and more deliberate, stopping a few times to catch my breadth and admire the details.

    A few more tiles have fallen off the wall. The wooden window frame is cracked. Rusty wires hang down the sides of the windows. The blue tiles have lost their luster and several have tea colored rust stains. An old woman, oblivious of me, looks down at the bustling street.

    (photo Jorge Baxter)
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