I like pictures which ask questions, pointing us to the before and after; pictures which subtly slip from the confines of their frame, weaving their own wordless narrative before our eyes.
I like incongruous elements too, like the cigarette. Perhaps this might be Barthes’ punctum? (It reminds of a picture I have of one of my good friends after she got married in her big glamorous dress having a cheeky fag round the back of the church: not quite what you would expect).
I would tell you the story behind this, but it’s probably not as interesting as the one you will conjure up in your own head.