In a day that inevitably seems to repeat itself, two people await not only that some stimuli will change the pathway of a dying time, but also something that will change them in the process, as well. Two people, or rather two sides of a same person which complement each other and who – even if they are bound to clash when facing one another – wouldn’t be able to live apart.

They fill up time moving within a “place without a name”, stressing the differences in dialogue which one and the other set with the space they inhabit day in, day out. Waiting for a mutual consent to change.

Because it takes two to Tango.