Every day She does not live, but exists. Each day is similar to the previous one, and each day is a colorless space and a narrowed time. A dead plant, an impersonal carriage, a staircase, a door, a staircase, a carriage, an elevator, a plant. Only from time to time there are glimpses of color, but it is so deeply hidden inside Her world that no one can see it. But suddenly He appears in Her life, albeit silent and a little strange, but from this moment the time for Her begins to expand and existence is slowly transforming into being.
—a cinefog company