Kenny Mann (1)

I leave the building with my camera. It's just me and the world at 4.30am on 10.10.10 and the night is mine. Main Street is utterly deserted - am I the only one who lives here? The American Hotel is closed and silent. A vacuum cleaner in the window of the hardware store glares balefully at me as if to say "Hey - this is OUR time! What are YOU doing here?" I smile back.



Down at the harbor, the water is glassy smooth, ducks conversing somewhere far off in the velvet night, a tern or… Continue