A girl walks through what's left of the world with only a dog and a voice on the radio. Every day at the same hour, someone reads poetry into static. That's the entire story, and it's enough to break you.
A girl moves through abandoned spaces with only her dog for company, searching for meaning in a world stripped bare. Every day at the same hour, a voice crackles through her radio, delivering poetry into the silence. She doesn't know who speaks or why these words matter, but she waits for that moment each time, clinging to the routine like an anchor. The landscape around her tells a story of collapse, though the exact nature of what broke remains unclear. Nothing feels quite right about this place, yet the girl has learned to exist within it, moving between ruins with quiet acceptance. The dog stays close. The radio voice continues. This is a film about loneliness and connection, about how we find signals of humanity in empty spaces. It's meditative and unsettling in equal measure, building an emotional weight through restraint rather than spectacle. If you respond to stories that ask questions without rushing to answer them, that find beauty in desolation and hope in small rituals, this will stay with you.