The protagonist stands against a backdrop of grass, moss, or woods. It doesn't matter if it is only one, two, or all of these. This man is central to the camera, and he fits neatly in the frame, from head to toe. There is the distinct feeling that although it feels rural, the city is nearby. You are being fooled by the foliage around him. He kneels into the grass, or moss, and rubs one hand into it, until it turns green.

Cut scene, to

The same man is walking through a busy street, the camera follows in one steady swoop from his side, and he turns left, across the road. His arms swing as he walks, and his one green hand is visible at points. The presence of the camera causes passers by to look into the lens, check themselves. The protagonist does not know, nor care for this interaction. The camera gets closer to his face, there is the distinct sense of humidity about his face, as if a sweat is about to break, as if there is stress in the air. An unsmoked cigarette is handed to him from the right.

Cut scene, to

The protagonist leaps onto the bed, in a way that cinema chooses to slow down. In this case, it won't be. The camera is directly above him. He stares up to what we can only suggest is the ceiling, and his eyes remain fixed on one position for one minute. He is serious, stirring slightly. There is a bag to the side of the bed, contents unknown. There are muffled footsteps coming from the ceiling. The camera cuts to a chipped mark on the ceiling, and some dusty powder falls down onto the ground, like flour or talc. The camera then cuts back to the bed, and the man is not there. A little more dust falls from above. There is a cigarette burning steadily in an ashtray to replace him.

Cut scene, to

The protagonist standing against the backdrop of grass, moss, or woods, as seen before. This time, there is a bag perched against his right leg. He picks it up, emptying it of its powdered contents and letting go of the bag. The powder steadily dissipates into the atmosphere around him. He side steps to the left, and removes his shoes, which are lightly covered with this fine dust. He puts them next to his left leg, and takes eight steps backwards, becoming a smaller, less significant object.

Cut scene, to

The same man walking through the same street, this time without his shoes. The camera follows in one steady swoop from his side, and he turns left, across the road. The presence of the camera causes passers by to look into the lens, check themselves. They also look at the protagonists' feet, and glance into his eyes. The camera then moves closer to his face, still holding the same humidity, the same urgency, and the same stress.

Cut scene, to

The protagonist slowly standing on the bed, green-handed, bare footed, bagless, cigaretteless, humid, and a light powder continuing to fall around him. The sound of footsteps above him continues. He spins around and around, and the camera tries to keep up. The camera then lowers to his feet. The protagonist then steps off the bed and the camera rises again to reveal an empty bed.