Dust and dirt rise, settle and spin on an empty lot.
A massive city sprawls like an embossed array of LED’s.
The wind is desert hot and pooling at a point where the ocean breeze can only look.
Small barefoot feet walk on dirt that is littered with broken glass, small stones, and bits of city waste.
A young feminine voice is humming a wistful tune. She is alone.
A long rooftop is dotted with buzzing machines.
The girl’s steps are both deliberate and playful. There is no sense that direction matters.
The lot is large and open as a relic frozen between what was and what inevitably will come. The city is closing in.
A man’s eyes are ashen. His mouth is bordered by full lips. His breath is steady.
A structure is in the middle of the barren expanse. It has posts, transparent walls and no roof.
It is furnished with an assembly of diverse remnants: a crib but also a tiffany lamp (for example).
The girl enters the quasi-room as if it is her place- her center- her point of departure.
A pane of glass is opaque then not then again- a breath’s residue.
The young girl begins an elaborate ritual of preparing the space for some moment or event.
She arranges and rearranges the objects. She dances, sits, talks and sings.
She rips down the walls and rebuilds them in a frenzied, harried panic.
She begins to wrap herself in plastic.
The man smiles and dusts the floor with his hands.
She attempts to pile all the objects in the space on top of her.
She is suffocating.
He lies down. Turns and attempts to find various positions to rest forever.
She panics and escapes from her own wrapped trap.
She removes her clothes.
She freezes.
He closes his eyes.
She is terrified and begins to sing.
Her eyes close.
blackout
A massive city sprawls like an embossed array of LED’s.
The wind is desert hot and pooling at a point where the ocean breeze can only look.
Small barefoot feet walk on dirt that is littered with broken glass, small stones, and bits of city waste.
A young feminine voice is humming a wistful tune. She is alone.
A long rooftop is dotted with buzzing machines.
The girl’s steps are both deliberate and playful. There is no sense that direction matters.
The lot is large and open as a relic frozen between what was and what inevitably will come. The city is closing in.
A man’s eyes are ashen. His mouth is bordered by full lips. His breath is steady.
A structure is in the middle of the barren expanse. It has posts, transparent walls and no roof.
It is furnished with an assembly of diverse remnants: a crib but also a tiffany lamp (for example).
The girl enters the quasi-room as if it is her place- her center- her point of departure.
A pane of glass is opaque then not then again- a breath’s residue.
The young girl begins an elaborate ritual of preparing the space for some moment or event.
She arranges and rearranges the objects. She dances, sits, talks and sings.
She rips down the walls and rebuilds them in a frenzied, harried panic.
She begins to wrap herself in plastic.
The man smiles and dusts the floor with his hands.
She attempts to pile all the objects in the space on top of her.
She is suffocating.
He lies down. Turns and attempts to find various positions to rest forever.
She panics and escapes from her own wrapped trap.
She removes her clothes.
She freezes.
He closes his eyes.
She is terrified and begins to sing.
Her eyes close.
blackout
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