Afdwalen

A man in his forties, trapped in the colorless cycle of office life and solitary evenings, wakes to find the edges of his world beginning to soften. The objects in his apartment lose their definition, the city sounds outside his window blend into a constant low drone, and the faces of colleagues—even his own in the mirror—grow increasingly indistinct. He meets this gradual unraveling not with panic, but with a quiet curiosity, as if witnessing a long-anticipated release from the weight of solid forms and unspoken duties. His drift into ambiguity becomes the central narrative, where the dissolution of boundaries feels less like a loss and more like the only viable path toward a profound, welcoming silence.