At the Skaramagas refugee camp in Piraeus, lots of children were playing outside in the afternoon heat. While mothers tend to little infants, and fathers remain busy with their mobile phones trying to gather information about the border and asylum, little children play in the gravel and dust. This little boy came running towards me from a dusty lane. He stood for a few seconds right in front of my lens and then without a word ran away. I couldn't speak to him then but his eyes speak to me now.