The burden of human existence, and the pursuit of finding meaning within it, can acquire oppressively overwhelming proportions if allowed to grow. Neil Bishop, the protagonist of the film, finds his thoughts overpowered by the same preoccupation, leading him down a path from where there is no turning back. With a story that could any minute attain the tonality of a thriller, the disconcerting narrative continues to develop.
 
 As Neil moves from one house to another, meeting scores of people in a single day of work, delivering their lost luggage to them, all that he is allowed is a mere glimpse into their household and life. However, amidst the noise and chaos of activity of those around him, where is he truly located? While grappling with the question, he stumbles across a woman, nearly unconscious due to medication. 

 In her suffering and pain, he perhaps senses a kindred spirit of sorts. If not that then morbid curiosity leads him to take a longer, harder look at her existence as he combs through her luggage. A brief synopsis of her life is presented to both him and the viewer - once part of a happy marriage, she now lies in bed with injury or illness (or both), her face covered in bandages. 

Along with divorce papers, sex toys and lingerie, a vanity of colorful make-up lies ignored with tipped over medicine bottles and vials, dripping away their liquid, in a manner quite similar to the forever forward motion of life. 
Employing the deeply disturbing events that follow, and the distance covered so far by the narrative, the film is thus able to raise and leave the viewer with a pertinent question - are humans any more worthy, significant, relevant than perhaps a lost piece of luggage, awaiting to be delivered at its destination, and even then, to what end?

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