TCP14 - Keio Line

A salary man, face stained with age, sits quietly yet anxiously upon the train's burgundy bench seat. He holds in his hands a newspaper, perfectly and strategically folded with the precision of a watch's gears and the elegance of origami. The text of each story, bent, manipulated, sculpted in to new positions with every new fold, collides with one another, spawning, from chaos, new stories, new characters, new worlds.