Viewpoint
Viewpoint
He wakes in a city that isn't his. The sky is wrong. The buildings reach toward something his eyes don't recognize. Richard Broom has no memory of how he arrived in this advanced future, only the gnawing certainty that he doesn't belong. What follows is a quiet, unsettling odyssey through streets that feel like fever dreams, punctuated by a single human connection: Contarini, another prisoner adrift in time. Garrett's 1960s tale asks what remains of us when memory fractures, and whether the self can survive transplantation into an alien now.














































































