A photo captures a moment, it allows you to arrive at whatever imaginative story your heart and mind conjures. There are three parties in this photo, you, the audience, them, my subjects and myself, the person who can fill in the rest of the blanks the photo does not share with you.

Moments before this photo, the guy, under obvious influence of life and it’s hard knocks, unaware that I am a shooter, managed to score two cigarettes from me. One of which I lit for him. In his left hand is the cigarette I ignited, to his right is his significant other who seemed inconsolable and overcome with intense sadness. She was rocking in place under his comforting embrace till the bus called for its final boarding. Both boarded, the bus departed and this is where I can’t be of any more assistance other than the image I’ve left us with.