{"id":432116,"date":"2025-12-25T05:57:31","date_gmt":"2025-12-25T04:57:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/doogreporter.com\/as-if-nothing-had-happened\/"},"modified":"2025-12-29T04:09:12","modified_gmt":"2025-12-29T03:09:12","slug":"as-if-nothing-had-happened","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/doogreporter.com\/en\/as-if-nothing-had-happened\/","title":{"rendered":"As If Nothing Had Happened"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

There are corners of the street that seem empty. They belong only to the city. But sometimes they do not. Over the course of day and night they transform, only to return to silence, just as they always were. They have no name, no signs. They exist for a few hours, then disappear \u2014 returning, and disappearing once again. <\/p>\n\n

In Nong Khai \u2014 as in many other places \u2014 there are countless examples of them. They change already at first light, sometimes even before. A shack, a cart. Assembled in silence. A stove, a few brightly coloured plastic stools, so low they make you feel like a child again. Perhaps it is a way of not wanting to disturb that keeps them so close to the ground \u2014 knees drawn up to your chest. <\/p>\n\n

<\/div>\n\n
\n
\"Nong<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"Nong<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"Nong<\/figure>\n
Nog Khai night, Isaan – \u00a92025, Gabriele Orlini<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n