Passing Through

For a few seconds, the light was no longer empty.

Inside Saint-Germain-des-Prés, most of the church was in shadow. The arches receded into the darkness, while a narrow patch of daylight crossed the aisle.

I had framed the photograph around that light when a man walked into it, with a woman just behind him. They remained there only briefly, but their presence changed the scale of everything around them. The architecture seemed larger, the darkness deeper, the light more precise.

Then they continued on their way.

The church had been there for centuries. The light would move across the floor and disappear. They were passing through, as I was.

I pressed the shutter before they left the light.