In autumn, the constructors are laying the groundwork. In winter, the building starts to grow. In summer, it’s already blocking the horizon. An alien among one-story houses, overgrown by trees. The reinforced concrete creature, strong and vulnerable, vaguely reminds me of us, caught between the continents, with a seven-hour time difference. Meanwhile, dozens of planes land beyond the building crane daily. They bring wrong people, however.
It is a story of one year of construction and one conversation on Skype
