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In a world that revolves around the very nature of change, where are our constants?
Landmarks fade.
Time shifts.
And even gods get left behind.
A taxi driver. His very occupation takes him to different places and different people. Constantly moving. It does not matter if he desires to move. He moves anyway.
A young woman. She dreams of a past life that she does not recognise. She searches to save the past from being forgotten. But why she must remember it, she does not know. Or does she need to remember the past at all?
An old woman searches to find a future; a young man's job preserves the past.
We move.
We remember.
We search.
For what? We do not know.
Time's up. We have to go.
Sooner or later, even gods have to move.
