Drifting throughts, carried on a light breeze. The taste of caf, the scent of rain. It is a summer morning in Citadel, and the year is 2020. We are broken, here in the future, but we are not down.
In the void [Le Sueur] [Lockdown]
Establishing the boundaries of our new lives we concentrate on what we can. Answers don't exist for the question we all ask: when will this end?
A day happened [Le Sueur]
Not really much to say. It’s the weekend. A slow day. Not much going on.
She let go [Le Sueur]
A faded hope matches the mood of a dull morning commute.
Transit [Le Sueur]
The silent journey to work, a time shared with anonymous companions that I see each day I take this transit. I wonder if any of them recognise me, or even notice their fellow passengers?
Slow burn [Le Sueur]
An adventure into a world on the edge of society, to a place where the usual rules don’t apply. A place of free conversation, where people can be true to themselves.
Just a normal day [Le Sueur]
Not a lot happened, today. But I’m going to tell you all about it, all the same.
Just a day [Le Sueur]
Starting the weekend with a little upkeep, then a trip into town. Not a lot going on, and now I need to decide what to do with my night.
Much-needed mirth [Le Sueur]
In a small room, above a bar, a man tells his story. The audience, as he wishes, laughs.
Cyber Noir 2020 