“Betty was lying on the bed. She was fully dressed, her back to me. [...] Holy shit, I said to myself deep down as I watched her breathe. The silence was like glitter falling on a layer of glue. We still hadn't exchanged a word.” Betty entered his life, suitcase in hand, one morning, and she was the most beautiful. For her, he was the greatest writer of his generation. Betty has life demands that the writer without a publisher tries to meet. Without respite, they embark on a story that refuses all mediocrity. Yet the struggles keep coming, as if there are people who don't have happiness easily. So, you have to tear it from life, this happiness, to the point of damaging your nails, by being on edge.