Here comes us, Louise Coleman, the lively and dreamy thirties, never really adapted to the world around her. Let us observe together, three key moments in his life, gathered around his relationship to cars. How she learned to drive, deciding to acquire an autonomy of movement which would allow her to finally find the right distance with her companion and her child. How, with this brand new permit, she discovered that moving was not as easy as expected, the day she found herself alone, in the parking lot of a huge country shopping center, without money, without phone: locked up outside his car. How she then plunged back into the memory of the hours of her childhood, when she was driving with her mother, reassured in the mothering cocoon of the car, a passenger transported without worry, without waiting, without loneliness. Louise then breathed the air of her mother, her femininity and her melancholy. Nothing was so bad.