Husky Timofey

He was in a bad place when his friends laughed at him for the white facial sheet mask he had to wear before his face was stitched. In waiting, he observed others morphing either voluntarily or by circumstances, from one state to another. He thought some changes were deserved, some were better without. Now that he’s been there, now that he’s been through it, he looks up, eyes reflecting the blue sky over his head, recognises everyone goes through phases, only to be more truly themselves, no better or worse.