It was an early morning in the Kyoto train station. As I walked on the platform, I saw only two people. A young boy and a train conductor were waiting for a train. It was a rare sight at the usually busy station. They both had their backs turned to each other. It looked like they were completely oblivious to the presence of anyone. The train was approaching. Suddenly the boy started yelling at someone. Perhaps he was calling his friends who had squeesed through the crowd ahead of him. The conductor seemed preoccupied with his purposeful duties and ignored the boy.

The train was making a noisy arrival at a small and hollow space of the station. At the same time the boy was raising his voice to be heard, surprisingly, there was silence. Two people pass each other daily, but their humanity will never intersect. They stand in a space thousands of people cross every day, but who leave no trace of their past or their future.

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