I can’t even express how nice it is to be in a car at night with the rain drumming on the big signs along the highway: Forbach Saarbrücken Forbach Saarbrücken. This region that nobody loves but  me. It’s guttural, all those town names in ing, ach, the pedants say; it’s hard, suffices for the others. The Commie towns, the mine, you’re never far from a mine, Lorraine, heart of steel it used to say on the banners, the word foreman on  essays, when we were little, I never really knew what it meant. This region with its endless, dirty rain, even the light is mineral-hued. This region that nobody loves but me.
A female voice-off narrates memories: Eastern France, childhood and her father, the once care-free trips, the woman who goes to see her lover, a break-up, a depression, the strange and empty time of afternoons… These short stories touch us with their sensual and musical writing. They describe the private and the ephemeral, desire and loss. They are shards, fragments of life in which many women will catch glimpses of themselves.