A book that gathers intimate daily portraits of the photographer’s grandfather, spanning 236 days until they were interrupted by his sudden death. The pictures were made every day before sunset, in the small room of the flat where she lived with her grandparents, until 26 March 2009, when Zico suffered a fatal heart attack at six in the evening; more than six hundred negatives in black and white, along with laughter, conversations, embraces and confidences. Besides the images, the book also holds small texts written by hand by the grandfather himself: "I was sleeping. She came into the room, pulled me out of bed, put me on the stool where I sat every day, turned my neck, adjusted the focus and put me back on the bed." A foreshadowing of absence and a preparation for loss: while marking the passing of time, this collection of an old man’s daily routine also reaffirms what stays within the natural flow of a life — the camera, the ageing, the wrinkles, the photographs, the memories, the longing.