An old man wakes up, looks out the window, waits for something, waits for nothing, falls asleep. And he remembers, remembers, remembers.
His memories do not know linear time — they fall apart, gather into whimsical figures, sometimes poetic, often terrifying. The shards of this kaleidoscope cut to the bone, but from them a story is formed of a man whose life was very small, everything was too vast, and everything has passed, and the history of an entire country that endured several great upheavals and left not one generation maimed. Cultural revolution, labor camps, public humiliations. War, fear, dirt. Tenderness, sadness, loneliness. Somewhere off-screen — love, but the old man speaks of war, of fear, of loneliness and betrayal, and only of love does he not speak.