In the white pale landscape of an early morning, a lady wanders. Silently, she has been walking in between the thin tree trunks and the narrow branches inhabiting a meadow. Wearing the same white gown since last night, she looks distraught, lost, and feeble. She cannot remember where she lives, neither can she remember her name. Her past is a blur, just like the one she endured the night before when she felt overwhelmed by her disarray and her torments.
Looking up at the sun, she wishes that the brightness of this new day would give her some guidance. She doesn’t know how to live her life, not does she wants to remember where she lives and belong at this precise moment.
The lady blends into the scenery made of dry lawn, emaciated trees, and wild bushes. She tries in vain to find a way out, out of her wanderings, and out of her distress. The furtive movements of her body translate the doubts of her soul. In her white precious gown, she never appeared so gracile and fragile. As the rays of light delicately embrace the surface of her skin, she smiles inside, touched by the warmth of the sun, and the hope which comes from it.