A house. A miniature society. A closed room. And everything that the walls shut in: madness, humor, desire, yearning, sorrow, hope and great romance. This is old age in all its splendor. More than half of the media stories on the elderly in their nineties deal with private wards and the right to have a shower every day – the initiatives, the reforms, the political intentions. But behind the curtains in a Norwegian home for the elderly one hears whispers about hands. The absence of hands. And intimacy.