I just sit there for an indefinite amount of time, staring into the distance, while in voice-over, a woman sings the Yugoslavian national anthem from the time of Tito. Which, by the way, is now forbidden in ex-Yugoslavia

aber sie sah nur eine schwarze Wand und darauf den Ansatz einer grünen halben Rundung des Ahornblattmusters.

I could guess her thoughts: one day, I would be alone in the huge grey room. In the morning, a guard would pass me my food, which I’d cook on the hotplate, and I’d eat, sleep and die alone, without having understood our fate or why it had been inflicted on us.