Encounters between people, it often seems to me, are like crossings of racing trains at breakneck speed in the deepest night.

We cast fleeting, rushed looks at the others sitting behind dull glass in dim light, who disappear from our field of vision as soon as we barely have time to perceive them. Was it really a man and a woman who flitted by there like plantoms in an illuminated window frame, who arose out of nothing and seemed to cut into the empty dark, without meaning or purpose? ~ Pascal Mercier, Night Train to Lisbon, pg. 94

Fujifilm X-T4: f/4 1/1400 s 78.1 mm 640 ISO