One summer evening, in a suburban bungalow, a 70 year old woman is taken hostage by her neighbour teen. Time goes by, Miss accepts her fate and tries to supply the young broken hearted - not out - gay teenager the love and acceptance he won't get at home. She actually knows how he must feel since she just lost her female lover who left her and flew to Alaska. They slowly get to know one another, sharing the unspeakable pain of the past abandonments.

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« MISS: (offstage, artificially cheery) I'm behaving very well for a hostage, don't you think? Co-operative, cheerful ! I haven't shouted yet. That wouldn't be good for my cough, though. I'm not even trying to escape. I don't run very fast. It's the first time I've been a hostage. And I thought I'd seen everything. I've thought about it before. I was always afraid that it would happen to me on a plane. But that's absurd. Statistically absurd. Far more likely to happen at home. When you think about it. But at the same time, being held hostage at home is a plus. You have your creature comforts. Which alleviate the arduous aspect of the affair. The distasteful aspect. You have access to your fridge, and to your music. You like baroque? [...] »