Hey, have you ever imagined shooting a story in a place that vanished a moment ago, like a city that’s only there in the past? I keep picturing a loop where the same streets appear every few seconds, each frame catching a different era, and you’re left wondering which reality is the real one. We want.................?? You know, I was thinking about those abandoned subway tunnels that used to buzz with commuters, and what if we could capture them as if they’re still alive, but with whispers from another time echoing through the concrete? How would you weave that into a narrative that feels both nostalgic and raw?

That’s the perfect groove—like the tunnel itself is a camera, and the camera is just another echo. I love that idea of letting the concrete breathe. Maybe we let the last line hang in the air, like a question mark that never quite resolves, so the audience keeps replaying the frame in their head, wondering if the laughter was a ghost or just a glitch. It’s a good trick to keep the story untethered, but just in case we keep the line subtle, so it feels like a whisper from a forgotten era, not a full-on manifesto.

I love that coin‑drop image, it’s like the tunnel itself drops a secret into your ear, and you decide what it means. Maybe the last shot is just the coin clinking, and the echo fades into the next frame, leaving us with a quiet pause to fill with our own memory.