The first light of dawn marks the moment when every nightmare returns to its place. They fade like shadow-memories upon waking, making room for the day. We should not have to live with those torments under the sun, yet this elderly man has done so his entire life, accustomed to a cycle that has given him no peace. Today, finally, he is leaving his shadows in the night where they belong. After carrying them with him even by day, worn down by a constant presence, he sees a light. For now, it is only a distant hope—the desire for that boundary between night and day to become real and definitive.