"When you're just passing by, it's much easier to be yourself, to not invest too much feelings. This is if you're sure you'd only be at a place for a set amount of time." Philip is from 1955. His house is guarded by a lion. The sisters listen to him like he's a priest. Hands folded—like they've committed a grave sin, ready to confess and supplicate. "Anything, we'll give you anything you ask of us. Just help us," Sylvia cries. "Everyone says that," Philip waves her off. "All I ask is you write to me when you're back home."