Some links are pacts. Forged out of similarity, out of need, out of an intimacy clear and deep. And the ones forged with those who leave us remain; they take with them a part of who we were: thoughts, habits, gestures. Each loss represents an interruption in the flow of our existence and suspends us in the wind; like Enrico and Jean Claude’s hot air balloons. Or like little colorful balloons that in stories always have a destination, but in real life burst once they get too high. They go up, the hot air balloons that these two brothers went to see on a day off. United by a strong and tender bond, Enrico and Jean Claude watch them get lost in the distance, safe and silent within the boundaries of the promise they exchanged.