In a dimly lit asylum room, a woman sits alone, surrounded by bright spotlights. She spends her time sharpening pencils and writing in a notebook, often breaking the points with her forceful grip. As she finishes her writing, she tears out the page, folds it, and slips it through a slot, possibly sending a message to her husband, "Sweetheart, come."
In Absentia
A solitary figure scribbles notes in a notebook, surrounded by the eerie glow of spotlights illuminating the night outside her asylum window, as she methodically sharpens her pencils.
