There are people who spend their entire lives in the same house, their childhood home where their family history rests. Benigno, at eighty-eight years old, still sleeps, eats, and dreams in the home where he was born, the home that is rooted in the earth to reach for the sky. The house stands alone, alongside Benigno and his tortoise Totó, adrift in the limbo of memories, the ritual of daily life, and the anticipation of the final day. Adjacent to the house is his vegetable garden, which he visits daily to tend to his chickens and work the soil with the seeds inherited from his ancestors, which he ceremoniously catalogs and preserves.