Without being exact but synchronous, we left one morning on December 19, 2021 looking for the pleasure of walking in a space. Wandering with a certain attention to the great details and the bare minimum brings us closer to creating or perhaps finding stories that remain hidden in dead ends. On any given winter morning, at the same instant, these invisibilities subsist in their phantom condition. The stories are there without even paying attention to them, they exist. Within large cities, the stimuli are normally biased, it also happens with those who perceive these impulses: we tend to choose routes, passages and shortcuts that make our paths lighter. We want to narrate walks for the pleasure of doing them and the impossibility of capturing them fully. That is, that the paths are not recognized as authentic by geographical coordinates, but by what can be revealed with sensations and the crossing between them.