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A man and his friend meet regularly over morning coffee, sharing a quiet ritual that belies the persistence of nocturnal life. The friend, already awake for hours, carries the traces of intense dreams whose content slips away as soon as it is recounted. An attempt to make a film together becomes less a project than a deferred encounter, complicated by familiarity and the refusal of fiction as mask. Gradually, attention shifts from staging and narration to the fragile act of transmission itself: the way dreams must be reshaped into stories in order to be shared, even as they resist such translation. In this interval between lived experience and its articulation, the possibility of a different cinema emerges, one attentive to what happens before and after the image, in the neglected folds where life precedes form and exceeds it.