03:04 pm A movie is projected on the dirty wall of an old school. It lasts a few seconds before I'm convinced it's an optical illusion. I look again and it's just the dirty wall shaded by the muggy night. The air is as heavy as my head.
A weird screenplay, isn’t it a trick? I’m afraid. Do I have time? To be healthy. To be pure, to create space. Breeze: there’s a morning dew. The moon standing still on the summer’s day. I’m facing myself to face you.