Burns's art is top notch, and I really liked how he played with styles here—a little tin Tin here, a little 60s romance comics there—but the book falls short in the story department. There's lots of potential. Burns created some interesting characters doing artsy things, and a bizarre dreamworld that perversely mirrors the actions of the protagonists. Those are just window dressing to the main story, which is presented as a mystery; some unspoken, horrible memory is trying to force its way back into the main character's mind. The big reveal at the end, though, lacks oomph. Yes, the situation presented totally sucks—but not enough to carry all the great and interesting things that happened before it. It makes the book feel a bit self-indulgent, like one of the "Oh, my life!" indie comics so popular in the early 2000s—the ones where a writer/artist described some personal experiences, ones that felt emotionally rich to them, but just seemed tedious to me. The whole book left me disappointed (aside from the art).