I took this picture in 2018 and almost every week I think about it.

After a work congress in late September, I went sightseeing around Valletta.
We were in Fort St Elmo for a good chunk of the week, and wandered amongst the streets in hope of seeing more of what isn’t usually shown.

By the docks, I came across these double doors left open. There was a wooden plaque, iirc, stating that the shop was responsible for making the coffins for the Maltese Navy’s sailors for generations. Inside, I saw this lady sitting by the TV. She seemed so alone in there, locked in or lost amongst her thoughts. The wall was filled with tools, religious heirlooms, and pictures of her loved ones. I didn’t knock to draw her attention, I didn’t talk to her, we didn’t interact. I just… felt it and took it home, thousands of miles away.

It was just one of those genuine moments that I couldn’t help but fill the gaps with my own narratives and the little details I could see. I wonder how she is, what she did, and what she was thinking about.