Lost in mumbling

It was a hot evening, the kind that slows time down. I stood just inside the entrance of a small southern Italian bar, camera slung low, as this scene unfolded naturally in front of me. Two young men, surrounded by the low buzz of a small crowd and the fading daylight, absorbed in their own bubble of silence. One leans into his smartphone with all the weight of someone trying to escape; the other, lost in thought, stares past the counter’s glare. The band in the background plays on, unnoticed.

I framed the shot deliberately tight, giving the Ferrarelle fridge full prominence. It anchors the scene in place and era—local, ordinary, and unmistakably Mediterranean. The warm colour cast leans into the yellows and reds, amplified by the interior light. I exposed for the skin tones, letting the highlights on the fridge blow slightly and the deeper corners fade toward shadow.

Focus landed where I wanted it: the central figure, in that awkward posture of digital isolation, his body physically present, his mind elsewhere. There’s softness around the edges, but not enough to distract. Compositionally, I used layers—foreground counter, mid-ground figures, and background performers—to pull the viewer into a casually complex narrative.

It’s a simple image on the surface. But to me, it speaks of boredom, disconnection, and the new rituals of waiting.