The market woman stays clear in my photo while everything moves fast around her. Someone on a motorbike passes by, turning into a teal streak.

She doesn't notice me. She focuses on her herbs and sales, doing what she does every day. I'm just passing through, taking pictures.

For a moment, our lives cross paths. She belongs here. I'm just a visitor. When tomorrow comes, she'll return to this same spot. I'll be somewhere far, but I'll have this small piece of her regular day with me.