I’m nearing the corner.
The street that seems empty a moment ago is now filled with figures approaching. Dark figures, walking toward me with the hush of footsteps on concrete.
I don’t know them. They don’t know me.
I keep walking, camera in hand.
Not to capture them, but to remember how it felt:
to face someone without meeting, to be seen and unseen at once.
There are no voices.
Only movement.
Only the strange, silent tension of being a body in someone else’s path.
