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Clandestine March
Reflections on black granite buildings turn day into night and clarity into riddles. It was a sunny morning, there was no snow, shadows are present but it appears to be very dark. As for what is happening, I've long since forgotten. It could be a clandestine march with something exceptional in the cart. Or, it can be what you might imagine. Who are those people who say that photography is inherently documentary?

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