I turn on the light and see him aged, once again. His eyes protruding from their sockets and his facial expression terrified, as if he saw death right in front of him, stripping his soul from his skin. My body quakes in its clenched state, my heart pounding and dancing in turmoil. After approaching him, trying to avoid looking at his face I ask:
“Are you alright? Do you need a doctor? Can I help you go to the bathroom and back?”
He looks at me and tells me that he is fine, but he woke up two hours ago and couldn’t fall back asleep, and that between relaxing and staring at the ceiling, he thought of one word. And every time he tried to utter it, he felt like vomiting and emptying his stomach. He cannot even express or describe it in a sentence, it was the kind of word that
cannot be said, as if belonging to a language foreign to him. Whenever he thinks of the word while speaking to me, his features change suddenly, his colour changes to a shade of pale yellow, he opens his and begins to belch, his body shakes and his hands tremble.

Across this collection of stories, we find questions of death, family, and desires. Also, places of shifting dimensions, bodies that transform and transmute, languages with no name, a corner wall of an apartment staring out at its inhabitants, and people living in rooms they don’t belong, desiring the impossible.