It’s the end of spring outside.
It's quiet. The sun comes in and out the clouds. The flat is dark when the cloud covers the sun. The flat is bright when the sun shines. The wind is still.
Says in a fatigued voice.
She lays on her sofa-bed. There is an upper floor. There are some photographs on her shelves.
¦ a ¦
¦ boy ¦
¦ a ¦ ¦ ano ¦
¦ girl ¦ ¦ ther ¦
¦ ¦ ¦ boy ¦
She wakes up suddenly, freightened. Seems like she notices it was a dream. Tries to sleep again.
Flashbacks to another time.
Eventually she goes to the kitchen and makes some lunch. It's about one in the afternoon. Her routine seems solid. She sits to have her lunch. Tells me a bit about a song from Pankaj Udhas, a singer from India, titled Chitthi Aayi Hai. It speaks of a letter sent from India to a person living overseas earning money. The letter speaks of the lonely family left behind, asking this person to go back home to India.
She begins too cry and after a few seconds she stops. She talks about her family, family in general. About support, understanding, love, neglect, rejection. The conversation is about family.
The beginning is here.