A black screen. A bottle breaks on the bitumen. A few insults are flung. The decor of an industrial area, first thing in the morning, after a busy night. Three friends “find†a vehicle and climb in for a journey with no clear aim. Except for one of them, troubled by the guilt of having cheated on Alba, who is arriving the next evening. Someone told him about a cross, painted on a cliff over the Genevan countryside, which is supposed to reconcile those who reach it with their innermost selves. Beyond a mystic, post-drinking delirium, the strapping lad believes that the climb to the summit will help him find the courage to talk to his girlfriend.
