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Sporting leather boots to shield the winter and a bow with arrowheads made of titanium walked a shadow on the deafening silent Rue of Paris. The lights were every shade of amber as if people were compensating for the harsh monotone and grimness the season brought with it. Yet, there’d be a feast for the dark reaper. Stealth is a lingua franca for both professions, the one being captured and the one capturing. Blink and you’ll miss it. And she did miss it, for it was not the arrow that got her. It was those eyes. Those damn eyes. They both learned that one of them was an observer and the other an assassin in more than one way.
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You become what you consume. Or so they say. I believe it has a certain degree of influence in shaping the macro parts of your lifestyle but, for it to have an impact of the magnitude of becoming one with it, that’s borderline religious or eccentric on the Richter scale of devotion. But I do agree that it plays a part in shaping your behavior.
For me, literature and music are the things that I religiously consume, and the denouement is that the object, the subject, and the style of my writing, doesn’t matter how mediocre, is influenced by it. Naturally, the title of this frame is inspired by the book following the story of a spy by Terry Hayes that I’m currently reading, “I Am Pilgrim.” And this shot from the streets of Paris, in my artistic opinion, called for a musing like this.