It’s Friday evening and this is it: Laure has packed all her belongings because tomorrow she’s moving in with Françis. On this last evening, she leaves the empty apartment which she no longer really feels is hers to go have dinner at Marie and Bernard’s. But having forgotten about the transport strike, Laure ends up in a huge traffic jam. Cars are at a standstill; horns blare. The commuters are tense, impatient. All except Laure, who couldn’t care less. In her car, it’s warm, it’s safe, she has music to listen to; she feels . . .at home! Outside the car, on the other hand, pedestrians rush along the wintry streets in every direction, eager to get to their homes. All except one man, who stands motionless in the glow of a neon sign. Now he begins to walk forward through the cars. Someone somewhere, Laure thinks, must be waiting for him. Who could it be?