In this garden of disused and broken statues, Luna stood in a silent corner, nearly clean and unharmed.
“Come here, my son”, she said. “I’m going to tell you the secret of beauty. If you manage to remain stone cold while being in deep thought all the time, you can hold on to beauty for almost ever. It’s worth a try.”
“You must mistake me for somebody else”, I declined, taking another picture for future reference.