A crab knew how to write. When I left the city, the colors looked like a finger painting and the noise of the shadows covered me like a cloak. I stopped listening to my friends when they called me on the phone, and I went deeper into my head; in my own room, surrounded by four white walls, I discovered a path that led me to the beach. That’s what Borja Santomé, director of the short film, told me in his search for a spontaneous work of art.

Juan Pablo Melo