“He sold everything, even the tame jaguar that teased passersby from the courtyard of his house, and he bought an eternal ticket on a train that never stopped traveling.”

Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Sometimes you read a sole sentence that appears to be a complete story on its own. The above sentence is one of those, which linked to my personal experience wandering in cities, always with the feeling of being a bit of an outsider, looking from a distance. With this ‘miniature story’ in mind I made the associative serie ‘going nowhere’.