She used to love the smell of oranges. It reminded her of something that she used to like. He brought her oranges. Not only one. But thousands of them. He delivered them in big boxes. Oranges were everywhere in the house: in the kitchen, in the living room, next to the bed, next to the toilet, on the chairs, on the tables, pilled up in the windows. And with every orange he brought he took away another of her memories.

This solo is dealing with systems of opressions and power that leave bodies small and speechless. In the center of the piece stands Madame Butterfly, a young lady that is constantly taught to fly from very early stage in her life. Suddenly she finds herself down on the ground, it seems like external forces pulled her down and this young lady – who never got in touch with the rules of gravity and the concept of borders, is confronted with something irremouvable. Now she has to find her way through a system that is feeding her sweet oranges while giving her the bitter taste of never being aible again to pick them from the trees by herself.