Lau Sai-Wing

An absentee father and his bipolar son are forced to live together as they struggle with a recent family tragedy. The tension and anxiety boil as they live and try to cope in a tiny apartment. As time passes, they realize their shared pain is not their only source of grief, as they find the outside world is a cruel and unjust place.

Seated in the front row of a funeral hall are a boy and a teenager, the picture of the deceased yet to be placed. A florist, Tung (Ai Wai), is consumed by grief but puts on a front for others. The boy drops by at the florist and orders a custom floral arrangement - a teddy bear-shaped wreath with his favourite yellow flowers — to be readied in three days' time and paid with money saved up in his piggy bank. Tung forges an unlikely friendship with his young customer, an encounter that releases bottled-up emotions so that healing process can begin.

There are people and places that we used to hold dear in our hearts and gradually became sediments of buried memories. When Charlotte encounters a suitcase at the second hand shop she works at, her emotions are unearthed and bring her back to the days of innocence with Chan. Charlotte did believe that Chan, just like the neighbourhood in bygone times, would remain constant. Yet all old things are helplessly abandoned and crushed beneath the wheel of time. At the same time, Ling is depressed and lonely because of Chan's death. Sending Chan's things away to purge her negative emotions and to set herself free from the past, a treasured relationship reveals itself like ripples of emotions.

Falling petals, flying snowflakes, fragments of memory…all are transient just like our dreams. Without thoughts, there need not be a concrete plot or captivating story to tell. Just as philosopher Zhuang Zi wrote--the fools think they are awake. Each scene and image exudes illusion and fantasy. The absence of plot and dialogues allows freedom in interpretation and clarity. The symphony of images becomes a poem for the audience to treasure. Cinema is dreamy in nature, allowing the true poetic spirit to thrive—when we rid ourselves with thoughts.