Characters skitter across the screen: a courier with ink-stained thumbs, a woman who folds maps into origami cranes, an old man with a radio that only tunes to forgotten songs. Their arcs intersect like wiring in a city’s nervous system—brief sparks, then a longer current that drags them toward a painful, luminous truth.
Characters skitter across the screen: a courier with ink-stained thumbs, a woman who folds maps into origami cranes, an old man with a radio that only tunes to forgotten songs. Their arcs intersect like wiring in a city’s nervous system—brief sparks, then a longer current that drags them toward a painful, luminous truth.
