Mira walks to college every morning in an Arab neighbourhood in Jerusalem.
At around the same time, in a Jewish neighbourhood not far away, Molly walks her son to primary school.
In what has been a deadly October in the Holy Land, both of them have come to hate the journey.
Mira is a Palestinian. Two weeks ago, the Israeli authorities set up a roadblock at the end of her street. As she turns the corner to the bus stop, armed police officers look her up and down. Sometimes they tell her to show them the inside of her bag, sometimes they don't.
Molly is an Israeli who brings up her family in East Jerusalem, an area Israel conquered by war. At the bottom of the hill where her son goes to school, two Palestinians got on a bus two weeks ago and used a gun and a knife to murder three Israelis. Now she doesn't go anywhere without a can of pepper spray in her hand.
Mira goes to a university where Palestinians who carry out attacks like that are lauded as heroes. On her way to her first lecture, Mira walks beneath a banner celebrating the sacrifice made by a local boy who was shot dead trying to stab an Israeli.
"This is our land, and we want it back," she tells me. "I'm not justifying the violence, but it's the only way we have right now."
Molly gets on the bus for the first time since the attack in her neighbourhood. She's terrified - looking at everybody who's getting on, working out whether or not they are an Arab, checking what they carry in their hands.
She dismisses any talk of the occupation, and says the violence is being fuelled by racial hatred.
"I know that most Arabs are not terrorists," she says. "But I don't know that there aren't Arabs on this bus who don't see me as just a target. Just a Jew."
After lectures, Mira leaves Jerusalem to go and play a match on the West Bank with her five-a-side football team. On the way back into the city, at another checkpoint, the whole team is forced to get off the bus while police question them, and check their identification papers.
"This is torture for us," she says. "Peace has done nothing for us."
She tells me that the current violence might subside, but it won't stop, "until we get our land back."
Before she picks up her son from school, Molly goes to visit her friend Aliza, who passes on some of the moves from her self-defence class - how to repel a man with a knife.
Molly nods as Aliza says that Jews will not leave land they have settled on in the Holy City. "Let's move forward," says Molly. "I want the Arabs to have equality, but we can't have a conversation if you're coming at me with a knife."
At night, Mira gets home feeling humiliated and resentful.
Molly is thankful that her loved ones are all safe.
They live just a few miles away from each other, but couldn't be further apart.