The richness of our own neighbourhood is the exception, the calm voice over says at the point when the imaginary cameraman has swung out to a distance from the earth where galaxies appear as distant stars, small and far apart. This loneliness is the norm, he says, then turns the camera round, heading back again to where the film started out, the lake side in Chicago, the couple sleeping after a picnic, their blanket on the ground. The camera zooms in on the hand of the man but doesn’t stop there, goes deeper in, sliding like a beam of radioactive light to show the worlds that wait inside. Finally we come to the heart of an atom, two electrons dancing in a circle, in a tight embrace of mutual attraction. Deeper down, chaotic darkness swirling, empty space.