Moldova, September 30th, 2015

Hours of driving along the Dniester, looking across the water into ‘The territory of the Autonomous territorial unit Transnistria’.

Frequent stops to make photographs of the country that is quite obviously there but does not exist. Wary eyes looking at me from both sides. Dogs roaming, sniffing.

Driving towards the bend in the road that would take me up onto the bridge, the border and checkpoints, and into the territory, hoping to make more work.

For the last mile I had noticed a car, long, black, windows darkened, behind me along the road.

I came to the faded lines and the stop before the bend.

The second car stopped. Behind me. 10 yards.

I waited.

They waited.

…

Cars drove from the opposite direction up and over onto the bridge.

I waited.

The long, dark car drove up behind me, alongside me.

It stopped.

I looked sideways and saw nothing but dark glass.

I waited.

They waited.

Ten, twenty, maybe thirty long drawn out seconds.

I waited.

They moved forwards, past me, in front of me.

They stopped.

My heart. Pounded.

Then they pulled away, across the lines, around the bend, up on to the bridge.

I waited.

I drove over the white faded lines.

Straight.

I would return three years later….