Trude was my grand-mother. An admirable woman, a survivor from the camps, a terrible woman. The imperious will to survive. I wouldn’t film her, ever. I didn’t want to look back, I didn’t want to hear of death, I didn’t want survival. I wanted life. I wanted to be free. Until Trude’s unbending way of speaking started to bend. I then understood the time had come to come to her and look at her, freely. To film life and death, my own way, at the present.

Audrey has left Eric. But there's still Paul, their five year-old son: Audrey leaves him with her mum "just for the time being". But for how long? Until she finds somewhere to live, a new job, a stable companion?

A suburban city that aspired to be utopian, with colorful buildings scattered between three expressways, currently undergoing renovation, "La Grande Borne"; a week in the life of a real estate agent in Nièvre, from nature-loving hipsters to Nevers employees looking for housing near schools; the daily life of a few "year-round campers," neither homeless nor homeowners, but a cross between the two, rarely seen, rarely talked about. These three places, these three situations, each approached with the perspective it calls for, allow us to put into perspective and raise a few questions on this theme: how do we live together today?

Two couples, a child, the lake, the city, behind. Firefighters are here too, unless Audrey dreams them. The threat is always real.