Settimo Torinese. An old building surveyor talks about the houses of the first immigrants, who came from the Veneto and wanted a detached house, and the apartment complexes of the immigrants of the 1960s, who came from southern Italy with their cardboard suitcases. Even the old parish priest talks about the transformations in the city, the hopes of the young people, his astonishment at a world he no longer recognizes. Story leads to story: from the story of the engineer who built one of Europe’s largest purification plants to the infinite stories of yesterday and today that intermingle in one of the many suburbs. “I have always lived in the suburbs. When I was small I went to a school in prefabricated apartments, the immigrants lived in houses that were in ruins and the traffic was congested. Over the past twenty years, thousands of apartments have been built, instead of the old factories there are museums and media libraries. The main street has become the thoroughfare of thousands of people, the new neighborhoods don’t look so run-down anymore, the people say hello to one another, they chat. Maybe we have cut a scrap of paradise for ourselves in this city.”