Antoni and Orsola’s home- evening, just before the rain.

Antoni's kitchen is narrow and bare, the only décor being piles of books and newspapers; it’s as if a library has invaded his cooking space.

The dreariness of the walls, fissured with patched cracks, is interrupted only by candid photographs, dispatches from a pampered girlhood.

Beneath this visual familial history, Antoni drinks his tea in upended silence.