Lydia moves through the room, everything around her is moving. Her eyes, her thoughts, even her hair. The world is in great turmoil, too. People constantly move, yet they don’t move forwards. Names so familiar with persons disappear in seconds, invisible borders are both built up and erased. Lydia begins to cry. She’s a living doll, caught in a museum, somewhere between past and present.
She opens the letter that lies on the table. It’s from Pete. He writes her from Sudan … She stops, bringing her thoughts in the right order … there is no country such as Sudan. There’s only the North, the Republic, or the South.
Where is Pete located? She’s forgotten all the details. The time he wanted to return or whatever, every detail vanishing into the air.
Now he writes her that he keeps thinking of her. She doesn’t feel the same, she’s already in another universe, somewhere else than Pete is.