From the day
Perspective: The Street Photographer · Tactile
The damp London mist clings to the heavy wool of my frock coat, a coarse, biting fabric that smells of coal smoke and stagnant river water. My fingers ache as I adjust the brass dials on my camera, watching a newsboy in a tattered tweed cap scramble over the cobblestones, shouting headlines about the blood-dimmed waters of Port Arthur. Blimey, even with a war brewing, the shop windows are a riot of distraction where a young dandy pauses to admire the new Land’s Lord game. He brushes his gloved hand over the smooth, lacquered box of the board, his fingers lingering on the polished wooden tokens that feel far sturdier than the fragile peace headline news suggests.