Description

Index is gaunt, threadbare, unnerved by from his landlady for the odor of gasoline. He shows us his story like a fiendishly split building of illusion and reality in a surprise of stunning dialect that gradually reveals itself. With echoes of Beckett, Poe, and Paul Bowles, Index is just a story of fear and storytelling, chaos and disbelief, a book whose wild design lays bare the deepest levels of unconscious fear.