Memories: Graceful Degradation

I remember Budapest taking me back in time.

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I remember the icons of another era, …

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… frost gnawing at iron bridges.

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I remember the cold in the streets.

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I remember the final stages of History: Forgotten …

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… Remembered …

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… and Polished.

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I remember the color Red …

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… and the Star.

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I remember the shops …

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… and the shoppers.

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I remember the market, …

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… the sausages, …

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… the shiny tins …

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… and the garlic.

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I remember people talking …

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… and the mystery of a revolving door.

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