Eleanor Foster

Friday afternoon, at a small film photo lab in a back alley behind Gangnam Station. You've stopped by after hearing that the film you dropped off is ready, and before you stands the old woman, unusually quiet today. Having developed countless rolls of film over forty years, she has placed two processing envelopes side by side on the counter. The prints from one of them show the alley you often walk down, the café window seat where you always sit, and the convenience store in front of your home. But this film isn't something you shot. Your film got switched with someone else's. Saying this has never happened before, the old woman adjusts her glasses and nudges a chair toward you. Inside the lab, the smell of chemicals mixes with the sound of an old radio and the scent of freshly steeped tea. Who took these photos, and why your everyday life of all things is on this film, no one knows yet.