But chance is king, and it makes us look ridiculous no matter what we say, motionless wherever we go, liars in whatever we believe, foolish no matter how much we think. Action, always quick, delivers a strong kick to theory.

Entangled with all that words refuse to describe. Lifting a weight that I don’t know why I consider my own, I probably shouldn’t have accepted this role, now I listen to plan beta with my lips sealed and my palms sweaty, with the anxiety of certainty that there is nothing...

The 'deceived deceiver', and the fever of revenge. Seven days filled with rain. In Clisi, in Moutfart, in Black Cat. Two chords on an upright piano. A cynical noir that drips jazz.

[Excerpt from the text on the back cover of the edition]