A fiction at dusk, poetic wanderings, mystery, reaching the very limits but which…? From deserted streets through which taxis stray to destinations unknown, Elodie Lachaud keeps her eye on the empty horizon. In search of the time that passes by, she extracts the smallest detail of the urban landscape: speedometers, the ribbons of tarmac stretching into the distance, shrouded in the heavy garb of time stood still.
