Ultimate refuge for the leftovers of the american dream, the motels in the United States houses a population of drifting humans who, from crisis to crisis – economic and personal – have been dispossessed of everything. Some of them lost it all. Some of them left it all. Some still have dreams. Some of them don’t remember well, sucked by daily survival. Everyone struggles with fragments of life that remain in this precarious nest. Portrait of a disenchanted America. Diving in its abyss.
Unexpected shelter made of prefabs in the heart of a burning city, the supervised drug consumption facility is open every day of the year. Cause some things know neither relief, nor rest, nor death. A place like no other where to come back, again and again, because here, they would make you feel, at last, you’re someone.
