RU MOR

The night smells of petrol and lottery wins: green cars, flashing headlights and the promise of transporting you out of the neighbourhood to the second page of your life. The voice seems to whisper through the bars - and in this whisper there is a mixture of reproach, defence and slightly theatrical boasting: ‘everything will be different when the sun rises’. Everything is very simple and at the same time cinematic - chains, tattoos, neighbours' whispers and a plan to rescue the mother-in-law on the next flight.

This is a story about how distance breaks the heart, but pride takes steps forward: an invitation to the dance floor through the back terrace, a miniskirt, laughter to the music and promises that sound louder than rumours. The whole melody is like a phone call from another world: a little cheeky, a little tender, with a drop of danger and a large reserve of sincerity.