Malika lives alone in the middle of the desert. There she runs a small restaurant serving two dishes, omelette or tomato omelette, to those who pass through like fleeting apparitions. This place, while seemingly absent from the outside world, tells of a country and in its soul. The winds of sand and silence say just as much as the dramas and dreams of those who stop there for a cigarette, a tea, to talk, or to be silent. Malika seems to have gathered these countless stories along the way, and they are now as much a part of her as she is of them.