TURKEY | Monday, 14 January 2013 | Views [229] | View Smaller Image
Servet seemed comparatively keen on his life in the Home, and I would find him weekly on this patio, either just sitting or otherwise smoking cigarettes. This particular afternoon he grew nostalgic as he relived to me his days as a North African bus driver for the British Army. The way I understood he would drive the doctors to their destinations, and I watched as his wrinkled and stretched fingers would retrace his route along the deserts of North Africa. Shortly afterwards I retreated from the porch to snap his pensive portrait.
