Synopsis/Details
Jack has lived inside the same institutional room for so long that time has lost all meaning.
His only companions are conversations with people who aren't there, or perhaps people only he can still see. He debates an unseen psychiatrist, interviews himself, argues with his reflection, speaks to the moon, listens for footsteps that never stop at his door, and slowly transforms loneliness into performance.
Beneath the wit, however, lies a man desperately trying to understand what happened to his life.
As memories begin surfacing in fragments--a doorway, a cup of coffee stirred exactly three times, the comfort of ordinary Tuesdays--Jack realizes he hasn't forgotten everything. His mind hasn't erased the woman he loved. It has simply hidden her where remembering wouldn't destroy him.
The closer Jack comes to recovering those memories, the less he needs the performances that have sustained him for years.
In the end, Jack discovers that healing isn't remembering every detail of the past. Sometimes it's remembering one person well enough to finally open the door.
