A car speeds down a country road at break neck speed. The man driving is late, for what we’re unsure, the woman next to him frustrated at his consistent unreliability lashes out at him. Their hate for each other is palpable, the potential for violence is clear.

He arrives at his destination. A car park in the middle of nowhere. But the passenger isn’t who we expect. A little girl, no older than seven, is the one he has been ranting at. An experience she shares in both parent’s cars separately. What we thought was an argument between two adults is only being heard by their daughter. She alone is their channel of communication.

This begins a perpetual, dizzying loop of handovers. Never a break, handed from car to car like a prisoner, until her objectification becomes too much.