She sits in the corner of an Italian coffee shop. The age of my grandmother. Pink trousers. A red hat. And lovely hearts as sun glasses. She talks to herself.
My grand mother plays synthesizer. Went to a music shop at 70. And came home playing funky music. That's kind of weird.
Still - wearing pink trousers and heart-shaped sun glasses at her age - would turn heads in my home country. Weird. Freaky.
Here, in San Francisco, someone's granny is just as freaky as so many others.
Still - wearing pink trousers and heart-shaped sun glasses at her age - would turn heads in my home country. Weird. Freaky.
Here, in San Francisco, someone's granny is just as freaky as so many others.
I walk through the streets on the first days of my new life, and can't stop turning my head.
Festival of Freaks in a bustling city.
No photo this time. Freaks have also right on privacy.
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