Staring into space, a boy rests his head against his tired hand. His legs are extended on the grass next to a pond. Sheltered under the branches and leaves of a tree, enjoying the cool breeze, the boy rests in silence. It has been a quiet and warm day but, until it ends, the boy cannot go home.

He rejoices in a succulent meal concocted by his mother, the stares of affection she gives him as he lifts the fork to his mouth and is about to devour one more morsel. His little sister usually plays up in her room, talking to herself, dressing her dolls. His father reads the newspaper.

The boy works hard in the brasserie located in the next village. When he is allowed to take a break, he often leaves the surroundings to sit against a tree or lay on the grass. He looks up to the sky, trying to catch the sun playing peekaboo with the rustling leaves. Or he watches the train crossing afar, losing himself in the horizon. He often loses track of time and is brought back to reality by the hollers of his colleagues. For now, he can delve into his dreams, and appreciate the crisp air brushing against his cheeks and neck.