A breeze. A sensual stroke. A diffident smile. Disappearance and return. Movement, connected through cut, accompanied by washing machine noise. Close up. Long shot. Medium shot. Extreme close up. Camera angles, connected through washing machine noise, accompanied by movement. Creak. Rumbling. Clatter. Rattling. Washing machine noise, connected through movement, accompanied by cut. All together portray a washing act. Camera, always head-on, allows only frontal view, resembling a porthole. Recurring movements remind of tumbled laundry. Washing machine noise remains washing machine noise. There are no clothes, but only a woman moving. Is she being washed? Her memories, constantly fading away? Or scenes performed solely in her head, drifting towards improbable and impossible? Or the remains of irreversible parting? And if she is being washed, wherewith? Time?