A refugee does not have any solid place, only a way and his hopes. Germany is the paradise. They are "kept safe" and ordered bureaucratically in portakabins there. Secreted by the German small town idyll. Waiting. For the time being. Life in the transit. Gives the small town hardly contacts to the people. The staged photos bring the "refugees" on the other side of the invisible walls of her accommodation facilities to outside. The way to the open. Her longing lies there. Perhaps one new home. You want to take it for yourself into possession. Finding native country. But it happens only at night. In growing dark if other views rest. It is a game with an illusion. As in the dream. If the day comes, the natives busily follow her life again, the refugees disappear in the turning loop again. Transit.