Kafkaesque slow-burn domestic horror from a master of the uncanny.Mr. Montessori and his family return home from a trip to the beach to discover that their sofa is different. Once dark and contemporary, its now antique, green and yellow, and smelling faintly of damp.Its appearance and origins are a mystery. A joke? An inverted theft? A break in the fabric of reality? Yes, the police take the a crimea seriously. But what happens next lies outside their expertise. Strange sounds in the night. A half-bathroom toilet with a mind of its own. Odd, fleeting glimpses of something, or someone, in mirrors. The inexplicable vision of Montessoris neighbor: He swears he saw a burglar.Montessoris quest for answers will take him to a dank highway overpass in decayed upstate New York, a very strange dry-cleaning supply concern in outermost Queens, and into the depths of an eerie, warped forest where time and space no longer connect, all while putting his ever-more-troubled marriage and young family in grave danger. But thats what it costs to find out if we own our possessionsa "e;or if they own us.Munson emerges as a master stylist in this tense, taut work of surreal humor and psychological horror.
