Unable to find work in his field, our narrator starts to pick up casual shifts in the fish processing plants and abattoirs of Brittany. Day after day, he records with infinite precision the nature of work on the production line: the noise, the exhaustion, the dreams stolen by the repetitive nature of wearying rituals and physical suffering. But he finds solace in his life from before. While shelling prawns, he dreams of Alexandre Dumas. While shoving cattle carcasses, he recalls Apollinaire. And, in the grace of the moments stolen back, devoted not to the production line but a poetic one, we discover the woman he loves, the happiness of a Sunday, Pok-Pok the dog, the smell of the sea.