Log line

On the slope of the Col de Sac.

Greydog cycles uphill on a thin racing bike. He has a red dotted handkerchief knotted around his neck. He is exhausted but determined to reach the top.

Downhill Beetle stands in the middle of a pedestrian crossing stroking his small shiny black smartphone. He is having a monologue with his phone in faulty Nietzsche frases. His feelers vibrating with excitement.

At the foot of the slope, on a false flat sidewalk, a decent lady wearing a red dotted summer dress crawls on her hands and knees. She is looking for her glasses, swearing and growling.

In this wide landscape a tragicomic but perilous situation arises when the paths of the three characters cross.