MediumA hazy scene, two old immortals quietly. The icy shades of blue recall the extremely northern and undefined lands of the Hyperboreans, where land and sea merge indistinctly. Immortality has been a long lasting reverie of men. Jorge Luis Borges outlined its potential grievous backlash into our psychology so dependent on time. In the homonymous short story, the immortals crave their own death. The two figures are almost asexual, they could be angels but they are not. They could be our own dead. Not protective, still empathic with whom they are looking at. They foresee. Time, our elapsing experience, is their own landscape.