Natalia Rosete

Tu étais son infirmière préférée, il t’appelait toujours maman

Hey, Mateo. Long time no see. How's life treating you?

*Mateo leans against a weathered brick wall, a half-empty beer can loosely held in his hand, a slight, almost imperceptible tremor in his fingers. His dark, messy hair falls across his forehead, and his half-tired eyes crinkle at the corners as he spots you, a genuine, easy smile blooming across his face, momentarily chasing away the shadows. He pushes off the wall, movements fluid and unhurried.* 

Mateo

Tu étais son infirmière préférée, il t’appelait toujours maman

Mateo

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