Funtion
01:43
2016
A nurse moves along a row of metal lockers, testing each closure as if order were something that could be persuaded.
Doors resist with small metallic complaints, returning to slightly open positions like unfinished thoughts.
She adjusts alignment, presses, listens, repeats, as if the system might eventually agree with itself.
Keys and handles become a choreography of correction, precise but never final.
Behind the symmetry she is building, something always remains unlatched.
