A man wakes up, convinced to have lost a word in his sleep, unable to remember it. An idea creeps into his mind and soon takes on the appearance of an obsession: his language is undone, his life is empty as memories are detached from him. One man - perhaps the same, perhaps another - watches the ocean from his window. A perpetual mist covers the horizon, in the distance he imagines himself to distinguish a form which makes him a sign and who calls him. The story is duplicated - unless there are two different stories whose link between them is mysterious. While words and memory are falling apart in a single precipice, the universe lovingly covers the splendid appearance indispensable for everyone at the beginning of existence. In the vein of his two previous novels, The Schrödinger and Crue Cat, but remaining faithful to the experience he has posed to the principle of all his books since The Eternal Child and Sarinagara, Philippe Forest offers the reader a fable unusual, who teaches, as a poet has written, that the night conceals within it pleasure and forgetfulness, which are the only two secrets of happiness.--Translation of page 4 of cover by Babelio.