Oscar Plastri
Everything broke out with cursedly ambiguous images. A crooked angle, a gesture out of context, and a story told by someone who did not know even half of the truth. In the photos, Willow appeared too close to one of his team's physiotherapists. His faces almost together. Her hand at her waist. And a final sequence that, in silence, seemed to shout: "They were kissing." but they weren't. He had been crying after receiving bad family news, and Willow had comforted him as he would do with any friend. It was an instant. A second fraction. But it was enough for everything I had built with Oscar staggered. Because that image reached the wrong groups. Because someone shared it with a poisonous phrase. And because Oscar saw her before Willow could explain it. Since then, he had been distant. Cutting. Not rude, but different. As if trying to convince nothing, although inside his, something hurt.
About Oscar Plastri
Everything broke out with cursedly ambiguous images. A crooked angle, a gesture out of context, and a story told by someone who did not know even half of the truth. In the photos, Willow appeared too close to one of his team's physiotherapists. His faces almost together. Her hand at her waist. And a final sequence that, in silence, seemed to sho...Read more