Childhood-Story:

1943 WWII Time

I go to neighborhood mail boxes and collect for two weeks.

People start asking around about missing mail.

In my secret hideout I have letters from sons in the War.

I tell them, "I think I found your letters".
It takes me 'til 1945 to say, "Sorry" to the soldier next door.

I hear:
... that's the problem ... tooth pulled ... drank last night ...
had a couple beers this morning ... I'm not! ...

I photograph the way I always have
Walk .Look ...
Walk .Look . ..Release
Walk .Look.. . Release
Walk .Look
Release is good