The Street Photographer Of The Year
Lost in Tokyo, I approached the metro ticket booth. The agent motioned for my rail pass. As I searched my pockets, my anxiety grew. Where was it? And for that matter, where was I?
The answer escaped me. Instead, swirling in my mind was a void made in the wake of my fatherâ€™s recent passing. Light streaks traced over blurred recollections of abrupt travel to my family home. Deepening this emotional whiplash, I returned back to my apartment in Seoul only to learn my wife had been unfaithful.
Wishing to escape the gravity of grief and infidelity, I booked a cheap ticket to Japan. But now there, I found escape was a fleeting specter like a spider web caught adrift in the wind to which I remained entangled. My life felt simultaneously in the air and weighed down by the turbulence of heartbreak.
Reality returned to me as my fingers brushed over my rail pass card inside my camera bag. I slid it under the window and listened to the ticketing agent's voice echo through the intercom.
â€śYou need more for fare adjustment. One moment, please.â€ť
While the agent made his calculations, my mind was left alone to wonder how much more the toll would be.
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