Behind the Glass, a Story Untold

I captured one of my favorite photos on a cold Friday morning while traveling. I had gone out for a walk and was waiting at a traffic light when my eyes caught a glimpse through the windows of an old Renault. I could feel the weight of a gaze filled with fear and worry—a weight that made sense, knowing the child inside was waiting for the driver to return from the hospital across the street.

The scene before me didn’t feel like an ordinary moment; it felt like an old black-and-white photograph, worn and slightly cracked, as if it had been left behind from fifty years ago—one of those photos we’ve all stumbled upon one day in the last drawer of the last cabinet in our room.

It was one of those moments you’re forever grateful to have captured. That’s why I always carry a compact camera in my pocket when I go for a walk—to capture fleeting moments that pass, but whose memories remain forever in the camera.