It is at the end of the world. Yvonne, the owner of the café, serves small red wine glasses to cards players, sells bread, grinds pepper, finds the right word, the phrase that saves the day. She was born in the house, eighty years ago. She traveled, but decided one day to wait here the world to come to her. Daily miracle. A Mexican crosses the bar of a rolling gait. A sad customer smiles again. Sometimes it is the bar as a whole that exults. It is no coincidence: "All those who enter here deserve it! "However, on the road, cars go at full speed, indifferent. Seashells and witticisms to taste. The sea is not far. Poetry either. It is at the beginning of the world.