Vestige

A few marks are enough. This is a work about how little is required before we insist on a whole person: an eye, the line of a nose, the suggestion of a mouth, and the mind supplies the rest unasked.

Nothing here quite connects. The features never resolve into a face; they survive near one another, and we complete them out of instinct. It is the same reflex that recognises someone from a footstep, or from a coat left on a chair.

What remains is larger than the original could have been. Fragments do that. They grow in the keeping, magnified by the effort of remembering.

Given a wall of its own it commands rather than whispers: the scale registers first, and the face does not let go afterwards.