When an unexpected fortune lands as softly as a paper note, the unnamed heir discovers that money has no weight, no trajectory, and no honest sound. In a sterile apartment of laminate and conditioned air, he wages a private war against frictionless ease-throwing coins, pressing palms to granite, scraping paint flakes with his thumbnail-until every object becomes a test of gravity itself.
From the dull PING of a quarter against a refrigerator to the defiant lean of a thirty-pound paving stone, this taut, sensory novel tracks a single night in which the only inheritance that matters is the cold, granular resistance of the world.
"Like Camus with a torque wrench-quietly devastating."
"Samuel Beckett meets the MIT engineering lab."
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