Every Tuesday morning, not far from the Grands Causses of the South Aveyron, France, whatever is the weather, at the day edge, a gigantic theater stage opens outdoor. A play takes place, where no text is written but where everyone knows his role on the fingertips. The actors, since distant times, have all the same suit: a black blouse and a cane. During this short lapse of time, they are going to confront themselves, to flee, to catch, to tap on the shoulder, to laugh and to have a row, to love and to hate themselves. These actors of a moment are the traders in cattle of the market of Laissac.