A man moves into a new apartment. When he has moved all his stuff in, he decides to make the new place a little more homely by putting a picture on the wall. Unfortunately his hammering skills leave some to be desired; he doesn't only hurt hus thumb, but he makes an ugly dent in the white wall. He puts a band-aid on his thumb and thinks no moreof it, until the wall unexpectedly starts to bleed. The dent soon starts to grow into something else, something breathing. He doesn't quite know how to react, and as his new houseguest begins to change and grow, his relationship to it does aswell. There is no question about the fact that your livinq quarters say alotabout who you are. The room we are in is like our outer shell, the walls our second skin. So what if that skin starts to act like an organic thing? What if it catches a rash, starts to sweat or gets hurt? What if it needs hospital care? An absurd tale about loneliness, fear, the longing for contact, where you live and who you are. housing problems, the polished surface and the ugly things beneath.