Daylight filtered through a layer of wax that covered the windows. Soft, milky, alien. Every object had lost its contours, furniture literally had melted into the waxen floor. This floor slowly deformed under the visitor's feet; it thinned out towards the ceiling, revealing in patches the pattern of the wallpaper; it removed the telephone, the refrigerator, the bed from their intended use.The room appeared isolated from noise and sunshine.If the telephone rang, one could not pick up the receiver as it was lumped onto its apparatus. Same for the television… Sounds from the busy street barely penetrated into the room.

Its last inhabitant had left under obscure circumstances; perhaps a salesman, perhaps a traveler stranded in a foreign city…

Visitors to the installation obtained the key for the room at the reception.