Space as a symbol, split in two for 28 years, borders inside borders, the intersection of subgroups is zero. An iron curtain tears it apart, spreading throughout Europe. And suddenly, everything changes. The impenetrable wall shimmies, drips with pores that get bigger and in the end consume it, all in one night. Hurriedly, some say. It was meant to be, say others. The portraits of the Berliners we visited, 20 years after the wall fell, each have a story to say, be it for the time before the fall, that night, or what came afterwards and still is. 155 kilometers in length, 3,6 meters in height, the line is there no more, only remains of its existence are there. Still, some will say that the ghost, the invisible line lies still, nullified and eclipsed, no longer capable to keep families apart and define such vastly different lifestyles, but refusing to be forgotten.