Two close friends, Czech exiles in France for almost half a century, take one last stroll together in the Luxembourg Gardens. One of them, a world-renowned writer named Milan, remains in Paris, while the other, a former journalist and narrator of the story, must return to Prague. Forced by circumstances, he misses his host country and fears a return to his homeland, which, having undergone profound transformations after 1989, is no longer truly his. A final character, Gustáv Husák, the Czechoslovak communist leader who had driven the first two into exile, completes the trio through the narrator's dreams, even nightmares. Questions arise: why did Gustáv Husák, this "president of oblivion" according to Milan, withdraw into silence during the fall of the communist regime in Prague? How can we not give in to appearances, clichés, and arguments of authority that are the prerogative of every era? Moreover, to respond, is it always necessary to resort to words? Because, beyond the partisan truths that manipulate us, the silence of an old man who has left the battlefield perhaps alone conveys the authentic truth.