Strangely, wryly, compelling search for 'the meaning of life' by an unnamed young writer moving into an unnamed Australian town. Can it be found in literature, music, belonging, love, alcohol or violence? Or possibly in the strange black holes into which the town may just be disappearing? Definitely one to savour.
He had once tried to deliberately write the saddest song of all time, but it only sounded the most pathetic song of all time. And anyway, there was no chance it would ever be heard. The reason there are no songs about the town, he said, is that the town isn't anything anymore. It's just a place where lots of people happen to live. People have thought for a long time that the town was unique, in ways they could never articulate. But it isn't.