A man wakes up and discovers that everything around him is fading – apartment, job, love, and perhaps himself most of all.

In a Tel Aviv cafe, on a tattered sofa, with a mother handing out two-hundred-dollar bills and fragments of love that died before it even began - a diary unfolds documenting small lives that are tired of chasing themselves.

"Stain" is a literary confession written on a table on which are placed a cup of coffee, an unlit joint, and the shadow of a woman who is not.

Yoni David writes in the first person, without redemption and without many reasons that tempt him to get out of bed.

A story about loneliness, about a single birthmark on his butt, which he inherited from his father.

The text and its central character wither, and attempt to reformulate themselves through literature, through the collection of everyday events, from an arbitrary and unheroic existence. A new everyday life occurs, piles up, mobilizes itself in favor of searching for a plot for life.