
Walter is told by his boss, Sara, to deliver an urgent letter to Henri de Corinthe. On the way he finds a beautiful woman he had been eying in a nightclub, lying in the road, bound up. He takes her to a villa to get a doctor, and ends up being locked in a bedroom with her. While she is making love to him, he has visions of surrealistic images from René Magritte's paintings. In the morning, the girl, Marie-Ange, has vanished, the villa looks derelict, and his neck is bleeding. Was it all just a nightmare?
A disorienting descent into dream logic where desire blurs with surrealist imagery. It feels like stepping into a Magritte painting, leaving you questioning reality and the nature of your own subconscious desires. Erotic, enigmatic, and utterly strange.















