Fissura

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This is a love story.

Between a Seamstress and her own Right Hand. And the cold,unforgiving realization that something you once thought to be yours is no longer.

The Right Hand has become an unfamiliar entity. Over time, unnoticed by the Seamstress at first, her beloved, once loyal Hand has become embittered by the repetitive day in and day out of creating beautiful garments for the Seamstress. It stages quiet revolts, and the garments she creates begin to fray and come apart. Buttons fall off of jackets. Stitches come undone. Fabrics tear beyond repair.

The Seamstress ignores the warning signs — she tries desperately to evoke happier times, to get back to a long-gone place. The Hand refuses to take part, permanently damaging the Seamstress’ latest project — a satin flower girl dress. The Seamstress quells the Hand’s rebellion the only way she knows how–in a crime of passion, she sears her hand on a stovetop and the coup ends in violence.

In the end, the Hand is subdued. But not without irreparable damage to their relationship. Their once-tender romance turned stale, the Seamstress desperately tries to stir up the intimacy of their past, culminating in a dream-llike dance sequence.

A tango for one.

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