Earbuds

A man crosses the street in mid-stride, headphones enclosing him in his own private world. Behind him, a line of people stands at the tram stop, their stillness a counterpoint to his movement. The tram, painted in tired colours, seems almost fixed in place, its presence dwarfed by the weathered façade of the building above.

The sign EgyptAir—faded, peeling—hangs over the scene like an echo from another time, hinting at journeys and destinations that have little to do with this grey urban moment. The building’s windows are uneven in tone, some dark, some reflecting a pale sky, all framed by streaks of wear from decades of weather.

What draws the eye is the separation between the walker and the static world around him. His pace, his headphones, his insulated focus, all speak of a city rhythm where personal timelines rarely align. The photograph holds this contrast—the forward momentum of one life against the backdrop of many others simply waiting.

It’s an image about distance, not measured in metres but in attention. In a single frame, the act of moving on becomes as significant as the act of standing still.